


Your Scent Calls Me, Bids Me Home

by anarchycox



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Feels, Fluff, Geralt POV, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Romance, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Sex, Snark, Touch-Starved, cuddle piles, dad vesemir, domega jaskier, eskel is clever, growing together, happy ever after, it is biological comfort, jaskier and lambert have heat sex, lambert is an asshole who cares, service alpha geralt, this is not a poly fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 66,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: The wolf school is the last school of witchers to create a formal bond with a region of the world, not particularly caring to play those games, but they also needed to survive. Vesemir arranges a mating contract between Geralt and Julian Pankratz of Lettenhove.Geralt knows that as the alpha of their pack he has to do this, but he is terrified of the marriage, worried about the omega who is going to be saddled with the butcher, the monster the continent fears.He dreads the wedding, and all his fears feel like they are coming true when he meets this Julian who is completely detached and cold. But not all is as it seems and when they arrive home at Kaer Morhen for winter, everything changes.And sometimes when we face our worst fears, we get instead our sweetest dreams.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2631
Kudos: 2434





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so the first few chapters are a little emotionally heavier but then there is going to just be so much fluff and happiness and cuddles.

They were wolves, they did not feel fear. But they were perhaps concerned that they were the ones home first. Decades on the path, and it was the first time that Vesemir wasn’t there to greet them. Even Lambert had mentioned going to check the woods where Vesemir hunted for winter meat, but when they went there was no sign of the man, so they did some hunting themselves. They had never realized just how much Vesemir did to make the keep ready for them. It was taking all three of them do the work that he did.

Eskel scrubbed down the hot springs, activated all the magic there. Geralt was fixing up the stables, and Lambert was cleaning flues and readying wood for the winter. They were all exhausted. The keep was readied though, except for Vesemir’s room. They were all reluctant to enter that private space, and finally agreed they would do it together. They aired the room out, readied the fire, and when Eskel was straightening shelves they found that Vesemir had kept some drawings they had done when they were children.

They all quickly left the room and agreed to never talk about it. And never ever talk about the tears that they had seen in Lambert’s eyes. He had smelled so confused, a weird mix of rage and affection. Generally the scent of rage on an omega was rank and hurt an alpha, but Geralt was so used to it pouring off Lambert, that the absence of was more upsetting. They all found tasks to do alone but when night fell and there was still no Vesemir, Geralt had first Eskel and then Lambert knocking on his door. He made room on his bed and didn’t say a word when Lambert cuddled in, needing the comfort of an alpha in his worry.

Lambert was the only omega that let Geralt comfort him. He nuzzled his neck, even as he reached out to hold Eskel’s hand. They all had a fitful night but when they woke in they could all smell Vesemir, and immediately let go of each other, Lambert elbowing Geralt as he hurried away. They all changed their clothes and went down to the main hall.

Vesemir was in front of the large fire, and he looked exhausted. They all leapt into action, Lambert lit the fire, Eskel hurried to the kitchens to get some food, Geralt took Vesemir’s boots off him, the gauntlets, cleaned up the cut on his cheek. “Thank you, pups,” Vesemir gave them all a smile and Geralt could feel the air around them just ease that Vesemir was now home. “I am sorry I was delayed. I was dealing with an issue in Kerack, and there was a foxtail on the trip home.”

“Contract?” Eskel asked as he handed over the oatmeal.

“Kerack?” Lambert snorted a bit. “It is a shit hole, with nobles who wish they mattered more than they do and in their attempts to matter more, fuck over their people. So, I mean like standard nobles, but they are pompous traditionalists to boot.”

“And they are the only noble families who would contract with us,” Vesemir replied. “I spent most of the season on the Path, securing a marriage contract.”

“Vesemir, you are getting married?” Lambert frowned a bit. “Why?”

“I’m not,” Vesemir replied.

Geralt felt his mentor’s gaze settle on him, a mix of apology and determination. “I am,” Geralt said softly and had to sit down. “Why?”

“The Path has gotten harder the last few years, hasn’t it?” Geralt nodded and knows his brothers are too. “The other schools marry a witcher, gain some respectability, which gains you better contracts, better pay. All witchers are unwanted, but we have become the most so of that. But even then, there still is advantage for humans to connect with a witcher school.”

“But Kerack?” Lambert whined.

“It also gives us Cedaris and Verden and Bruge,” Vesemir said. “A whole region with guaranteed room, and food, aid from a healer. Supplies for winter. Not the most exciting part of the world, but security for my pups, I will take any day.”

“Eskel would have been the better choice,” Geralt said.

“The noble family in question, had an omega child for the contract, and they are tradtionalist enough that only an alpha would suit.”

“You could have found an alpha noble, married Lambert,” Geralt was close to pleading.

Lambert smirked, and it wasn't enough to mask the pain in his eyes, in his scent. "Come on, Geralt, like anyone would contract with an infertile omega."

"I'm an infertile alpha, how the fuck is it any different?" Geralt looked to Vesemir. "It isn't any different."

"Yes it is, pup, and you know it. It is bullshit, but it is how humans think, and before you go suggesting, Eskel, a noble family choosing a beta? For a contract?" Vesemir shook his head. "Not going to happen. And -"

"He's the pretty one," Lambert said. Both he and Eskel had facial scars, just looked more worn. He sneered a bit. "Right?"

"Also, you'll never bow to any alpha human, and you know these nobles would want you to bow." Vesemir reached out for Lambert, and Lambert just swatted the hand away. "It isn't -"

"No, of course, he is the logical choice, like I'd want a goddamn alpha, you are right about that."

Geralt wanted to wrap himself around Lambert, but the arm that reached out would be broken in an instant. And it was crap but, it was true a noble would see a beta as an inferior option, no matter how clever and kind and wonderful Eskel was. A fair better marriage option that Geralt would be any day. "I'm the Butcher, no noble family would agree, if they had a choice."

"They don't, not really," Vesemir explained. "They are a small nation, and as Lambert pointed out a shit hole, but a land in between. Frankly, bringing a witcher into the fold makes them more interesting to Cidaris or Verden, better trade alliances if they had the pull to make one of those contracts." Vesemir had a bag next to him and pulled out some papers, handed them to Geralt. 

Geralt scanned the contract, which read like any legal document - a thing that didn't necessarily read easily to him. He could read well enough, but it was difficult to focus on longer documents. He passed it to Eskel. "Help?"

Eskel nodded and began to skim. "A male omega, Julian Alfred Pankratz. To be married in the late fall. Why not spring when we come down from the mountain?"

"Julian it seems is finishing university, Oxenfurt," Vesemir finished the oatmeal and put the pull down. "He would be completing his last exams in the late spring, early summer, and they want a little family time before we take him away."

"I thought in these contracts the spouse stayed in their seat. They are more for form than anything else?" Geralt was confused because he was sure that was how the griffins handled it. These weren't real marriages, more just about securing borders and stability and the like. "Eskel?"

"The Viscount would travel with you and live with the wolves in winter," Eskel read. "The family feels that will deepen the bonds between the school and them. That makes zero sense."

"Ohhh, they hate him, and want to ditch him on Geralt," Lambert laughed. "They are fine with it being the Butcher, because they are actually hoping you'll kill him over the winter. They get rid of the problem child, and if he is dead - they don't have to keep their word to us. Clever."

Geralt glanced to Eskel who was still reading carefully. He was also making some hmms, and harrumphs. "How bad?"

"Vesemir created a solid contract," Eskel said when he finished, "But there are things to be read between the lines. And Lambert isn't completely wrong. But I can't put my finger on it."

"I saw his portrait, and confirmed with some servants that it was accurate to the boy," Vesemir said. "Asked around town a bit. There are fond memories of Julian as a boy - creative, inquisitive, bit of a dreamer from the accounts. But once he went away to school at seventeen, not seen much around the village when he was home from the university. The servants suggested some problems between he and his parents. Fights. But wouldn't share more. They knew who you were when I made it clear the contract was with Geralt of Rivia."

Geralt breathed in and Vesemir, also a beta, had a generally neutral scent, but something was in there. "What?"

"They think you'll be able to straighten the boy out. That perhaps the Butcher will see him to his senses and mend his ways."

Geralt flinched away from the implications of that and left the main hall. He went to the courtyard and picked up a sword and went through his formations, his scent veering wildly between anger, resignation, and bitter sadness. He would smell rank to a human, he could only imagine how much it would hurt his brother's noses. He went again and again, until the smell of sweat overcame his personal scents. When he turned there were Eskel and Lambert, who had clearly been waiting for him to calm down. "They want the Butcher," he said. He felt lost. "They want the Butcher for their child, what sort of people are they?" He looked at the blade, so natural in his hand, that he felt more awkward with the lack of it against his skin. "They are going to spend the whole of the summer telling that boy that the witcher butcher, the scourge of the land is going to set him to rights. He is going to be terrified of me."

"He shouldn't be scared of you for those old stories, he should be scared of your morning breath, or the smell in the garderrobes after you shit, or the fact that you literally couldn't tell a joke if it would save your life. Or your cooking, or -" Geralt threw the sword at Lambert's head, and the witcher caught it easily. "Or your aim, fuck this why you never have to replace your crossbow, your aim is so shit you never use it?"

Well, yes, that was the truth, but still. "I am to marry a man who will think I am a monster." Geralt leaned against the wall and pressed his hands to his eyes. "I'll have to be, they'll expect me to be, they'll want," he shook his head and leaned in when Eskel hugged him.

"It won't be so bad," Eskel said. "Think, noble's son, just out of university, one winter with us here, and he'll be running back home and you'll continue on."

"Maybe?" Lambert was standing in front of him. "Maybe, he'd be fine? With who you want to be?" He bit his lip. "Stranger things have happened?"

Geralt stared at him in surprise. "Lambert...are you a romantic?"

"No, fuck you, just saying maybe if you got laid you'd not be so much of a tit," Lambert tried to bluster.

"I'm going to hug you now," Geralt warned him, because you didn't touch Lambert in broad daylight without the man's permission. He waited until there was an indifferent shrug, and he pulled Lambert in, and turned him so that his back rested against Geralt's chest and Geralt looped his hands over Lambert's stomach. "You'd be fine with another omega here?"

"Not a random one," Lambert replied after a moment, "but if Vesemir's gut said this contract would be fine, then it will probably be fine?"

Geralt was worried though, Lambert had been the only omega at Kaer Morhen for decades now, it was his territory and he was not the best at sharing. Alphas were territorial over people, omegas over places, the philosophy went and it wasn't wrong. "Eskel?" He didn't let go of Lambert, but moved his leg so it was pressed against Eskel's. "Thoughts?"

"It is practical for out on the path, but there was something in there, I'm going to spend the winter studying the contract against what we know of other such relationships." Eskel hooked an arm around Geralt's shoulder. "I've never liked the idea of a marriage with a human, we are too...he won't understand us."

"I know," Geralt said softly. "I know." They were different, they took the dynamics both a lot more seriously and a lot less than humans. Because there used to be more of them, and now they were a small pack. They clung more than humans did, but at the same time didn't necessarily care what it meant to be a particular designation. They were just...them. He nipped at Lambert's ear, and Lambert elbowed him, and soon they were all scrapping in the courtyard.

Geralt let him be distracted from the future, it was 10 months away, the wedding and he would leave the worry about it to the gods, as best he could. Which turned out to not be very much, because when he had time alone, his mind went to his future mate. Eskel had helped him read the contract, explained a lot of the words that Geralt didn't understand, and left him alone with the section that contained a bit about the omega he was to be bound to.  
Julian Alfred Pankratz. 

He would be not quite twenty when they had the ceremony together.

The contract said Omega but there was an odd symbol beside the designation one that he didn't understand. He went through the books that Eskel had said would help him, and there it was. He was a 'sullied' omega. Geralt would never admit that it took him a long time to realize that it meant that Julian wasn't a virgin. His mind got too hooked on the idea that Jaskier was a messy, dirty individual. He didn't give a damn what Julian had done before.  
But the rules of nobility were odd ones, and he supposed to some this was a thing that mattered.

Julian also brought with him 2,000 crowns which was a good bit of money, and they'd be able to outfit him well for his winter in Kaer Morhen. 

He could speak four languages, read five, and there was every expectation that he was going to finish university with the highest honours possible. Geralt was at such a loss that these people would bargain their heir with all those accomplishments to him, of all alphas. The manticore school, or the griffins would have made sense. But they already had contracts in the south, strong ones. Ones that meant no wolf had crossed Nilfgaard's border in five years.

"I tried my best to draw him from what I remembered of the portraits," Vesemir said when he came into the library. He handed the piece of parchment to Geralt. 

Geralt looked at the charcoal drawing. "He is a child."

"Portrait was a couple years old. I'd imagine he's matured some."

"There is baby fat on his cheeks," Geralt carefully put the drawing down. "I cannot be a mate to a refined noble, with all the education that is listed here."

"You speak several languages," Vesemir countered.

"I can barely read one."

"Your eyes don't let you, not your mind," Vesemir sat next to him. "You are smart, and clever, Geralt. You always have been. The mutagens just..." he shook his head. "It is what it is, and you cope just fine. And having a mate who can read easily, it will be a nice balance to you."

"You know he will loathe the sight of me." It was a joke that Lambert called him the pretty one, because he wasn't scarred like his brothers, but his hair, eyes, strength, everything about him was repulsive to most humans. "The stories they will tell him, or that he will hear. He'll be shaking on the wedding day. Be lucky if he doesn't pass out when we meet."

"I'm sure you exaggerate," Vesemir protested.

"I've had it happen, a few whores, noblewomen when I go to get paid."

Vesemir snorted a bit. "Were you covered in shit and blood?"

Geralt laughed, "Perhaps." He looked at the drawing. "He doesn't look like a Julian."

"Who would? The servants said he had a nickname, but I never heard what," Vesemir clasped his shoulder. "There are worse fates pup."

"Are there?"

"Mating only kills people in stories," Vesemir left him alone to his reading.

Geralt knew that was a lie, he had walked the path enough, seen people enough to know that they killed each other. He wouldn’t let himself think of Renfri, he had generally accepted what had happened that day, and that there was little he could have done to change it. Over a decade was enough time to let that sort of hurt go, even as the name he gained lingered out in the world. He looked at the contract some more but the words started to blur as they always did when he tried to read too much of formal writing. He had what he needed from it. He picked up the drawing and took it to his room. He carefully set it on the mantle and decided to indulge in a nap to stave off the headache that reading often gave him.

If Julian was as learned as the contract said that, he’d mock or despise that Geralt struggled with reading. He could do it, but the letters sometimes flipped on the page or were hard to tell apart in formal script - it gave him headaches. Notice boards were fine to read, the writing simple none of the flourishes that made it difficult to parse out. The mutagens that made it easy for him to hunt had fucked something up. He remembered reading everything under the sun before his eyes had changed, and then it was a chore, it hurt. Nothing had devastated him more. But they all helped him cope and he got by. But it was another reason his mate was likely to loathe him.  
Geralt closed his eyes, this was all going to go horribly wrong. He wished desperately there was a way to get out of it. But there wasn’t.

Several months later, he was shocked because Lambert just usually disappeared in the night, but he was in Geralt’s room a new book bound in blue in hand. One he had made for Geralt. Over the decades, Lambert had taught himself book binding, and carefully copied Geralt’s favourites from their library in a script that Geralt’s eyes could focus on. The first efforts were held together more with hope, but the last half dozen were magnificent - any library would wish to have their quality.

Lambert would never say he loved Geralt, his pack leader, but it was there in every book. “So,” Lambert said.

“So,” Geralt agreed.

“Guess I’ll see you in the fall in fucking Kerack,” Lambert nodded and left without another word.

Geralt smiled a bit at the show of support. He packed and said his goodbyes to Vesemir and Eskel, and knew they would be there in the fall as well. Geralt set out on the path, and at least on the path, he wouldn’t have a chance to worry about his upcoming mating too much. 

He hoped that this Julian Alfred Pankratz would only dislike him, and not loathe the sight of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Kerack was just as Geralt remembered it. Average as any place with farms and a coast. He had seen worse, he had seen far better. It wasn't quite the shithole that Lambert said, but things seldom matched what Lambert said. The last of the fall harvests was coming in and the weather would soon turn. They had more than enough time to shop for supplies and head home. It would be a bit odd that they would all be returning home at the same time.

And that he was returning with a mate.

Geralt carried a map of the continent in his head, and easily made his way through the land to seat of the region. It was a good sized manor house, befit the type of lord who would rule the region. There were banners hung in the windows, everything given that extra bit of polish. He breathed in deep and under the flowers and fields, he could smell that the other wolves were already here, that eased his mind a bit. 

But then it raised his concerns that he would look poor for being the last to arrive, and still in a fine muck from a hunt that he had stumbled across in Verden. He wasn't late per se, but he wasn't on time, and only so much of the muck and guts had been able to be scrubbed off. He dismounted and a stable boy came for Roach. He was reluctant to pass her off, but also knew that he was using that as an excuse. He gathered the bags that he didn't want to trust servants to and went into the house. He was greeted by a majordomo, who sniffed and made a face when he saw Geralt.

"I would suggest perhaps we go to your provided suite before you meet Master Julian," the man suggested.

Geralt just shrugged in agreement and followed the man, the scent of his pack growing. He let out a breath when he went into the room and saw them all sitting around. They all glared at the majordomo who said a bath water would be brought up for Geralt, and his official meeting with Julian and Lord Lettenhove would be arranged for an hour hence. 

Once the door closed, Lambert snorted, "Good to know the stick up that man's ass is for all of us. We thought it was maybe because we didn't have the all important alpha with us."

"Have they been unkind?" Geralt would not accept them being such to his family.

"No, we have only seen servants, who have all been gracious but distant," Eskel said. "I've been here a couple days, Lambert arrived only this morning, Vesemir last night."

"Hunt in Verden, some extra coin to buy supplies," Geralt replied. "Necrophage nest."

He received grunts in return and they spoke softly, until the bath water arrived. The servants also brought him clothes that were suggested as appropriate for meeting the noble family. One look and Geralt knew that they would not fit his shoulders. He had made sure to have a clean shirt and trousers in his pack. He cleaned up and didn't speak, let the noise of his pack roll over him, soothe him as best it could. He dressed and it was stupid but, still, "Lambert?"

"What?" Lambert looked at him, and knew what he wanted. "Yeah, fine," he sighed. Geralt sat on the bed and Lambert combed and braided the sides of his hair, met it at the back. It was simple but still more than what he usually did. He hoped the effort would be worth it. "There, you are oh so pretty." Geralt pulled Lambert's hand to his mouth, nuzzled against it for just a moment. 

They all stood in the room, breathing each other in, knowing that after this moment it would all fundamentally change. "We can go out the window, we'll manage," Eskel said.

Geralt appreciated the offer so much, but his brothers, his father, would suffer if they didn't forge this connection to humans. "Let's go meet Julian." They left the room and the majordomo huffed that Geralt hadn't changed into the other clothes, but didn't say anything. They were taken through the manor house to a formal greeting parlor. The sort where they had to worry their muscle bulk would snap the chair legs.

There were half a dozen people in the room, but there was only one that mattered to Geralt.  
  
There was only one young omega in the room, the one he would be marrying on the morrow. He was sitting, perfect posture, in the clothes that he had seen many a noble omega in. Refined trousers, an elegant doublet in a dove grey. Well tailored, and meant to let the omega's beauty shine. Let their scent, not their clothes, be what was noticed about them.

Geralt heard Lambert bite back a snarl, and had to agree with him. The omega was masking their scent a bit. It wasn't completely hidden, doing that would be a true slap in the face of the contract, but it was muted just a bit. "Why is his scent muted?" Geralt asked.

That caused a flash in the blank gaze of Julian, who had barely acknowledged the arrival of destiny in the parlour, before his gaze went back to neutral. Interesting.

"This is how you greet people?" the woman blustered. "Some manners, but then -" The count cleared his throat and his wife silenced.

"Greetings, Alpha Geralt of Rivia, you do honour our home, and our omega son," the man smiled.

"Greetings," Geralt replied, "Julian." Lambert chuckled because it was a slight to the lordship, but the man couldn't really argue at Geralt greeting his betrothed. "I brought you a gift, if I may approach." He waited and saw the woman's hand on Julian's shoulder tighten.

"You may," Julian said. 

Geralt went over and knelt in front of the omega, who would tomorrow be his omega. His scent was clearer closer, and he could guess why it was muted. Fear, they were masking his fear. But he didn't acknowledge that. He pulled the bracelet out of his pocket. "May I?" Julian hesitated for a moment before he nodded. Geralt carefully lay the bracelet on his wrist and did the clasp. "It suits you."

"What could you know about what suits me?" Julian whispered.

"Julian," the lord said, and in that one word Geralt could easily hear a thousand threats.

"Not very much, but I hope to learn," Geralt replied. He stood and went back to the other wolves. He exchanged a look with Eskel, and gave a small nod.

"We should talk about the ceremony tomorrow," Eskel said. "The wolves have but one particular tradition we would like to see incorporated into the event."

"Of course," the lord said, "We are more than happy to accommodate your needs."

"Julian must allow us all to scent him, nuzzle him," Eskel said and Geralt noticed the disgust in the woman's eyes at that, but Julian still wasn't reacting. He was touching the bracelet that Geralt had put on him, though. "He is to be Geralt's mate, but we would all lay down our lives for him, will acknowledge the bond in public."

It was complete bullshit, more a test to see what these nobles would allow, what the wolves would really be gaining from this union, would they be letter of the law, or spirit of it?

The woman clearly wanted to object, but the lord agreed. Dinner was called and it was a painful meal, one of the more painful ones that Geralt had attended and he had been to a gala where 7 different people tried to murder and poison him. He was very pointedly seated a bit away from Julian. But he was close enough to watch him. And close enough to see that the man was thoroughly checked out, not paying attention in the least. He noticed a servant give his arm a sympathetic squeeze, and there again was a flash in Julian's eyes. 

They were talking about the mating ceremony and what had to happen, and Julian made a derisive noise about traditional clothing before he caught himself, and his father said the emotions of the ceremony were clearly too much excitement for him, and he should go to his quarters. Julian left after giving a polite bow; Geralt’s eyes tracked him.

The talk continued and Geralt wasn’t paying attention, until a particular phrase caught his ear. "I'm sorry?" He surely had not heard correctly.

"The consummation of the union, is of course a public event, but since it is not one that will bear a child, we have agreed that it doesn't have to be done in front of the full party, but rather a small group - say a dozen witnesses to watch you bite and knot him."

"He's nowhere near a heat," Geralt protested, because to his nose it was easy to tell that Julian's heat was about three months off, "to bite him will hurt him, and only be a half claim anyways." And the other part, was a concern, "You expect me to let you watch me fuck your son?"

"Not I," the woman said hastily, "but the lord, the marriage officiant, and a few other guests."

"You know whorehouse, you have to pay double to watch," Geralt pointed out, and he heard Lambert and a couple of the servants snicker. "This is hardly the sort of marriage where that has to be insisted upon."

"Tradition," the lord said unrepentant.

Geralt glanced at Eskel who just shrugged, unsure. "Fine," Geralt said. Something was going on here. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he would. The rest of the meal passed almost in silence. Just the clang of fork against plate. Sips of wine, and Lambert rolling his knife through his fingers. There had been more awkward meals in his life but not many. He kept glancing to Julian’s empty seat.

They left the meal and went back to their suite. "So, what the fuck?" Geralt looked to his brothers. "We're going to have to fuck in front of people, I have to claim him in front of people?"

"It is not uncommon in nobility but -" Eskel frowned. "It wasn't in the contract. A nod to tradition?"

"They are punishing him," Lambert said. He pulled out some daggers and started to clean them. "Obvious."

"How so?" Vesemir asked. He was checking to see if servants were lingering, listening. Eskel pulled out the contract, and was reading it again.

Geralt stood in front of the fire. "Sullied," he remembered from the contract.

"Yupppp," Lambert nodded. "They are annoyed that baby boy there was naughty at school and isn't a virgin. Betting he was even more naughty between when that was signed and now. Which good for him, but also bad for him. Only gotta watch the fuck for legitimacy of heirs. No heirs here, this is straight humiliation for being damaged goods they couldn't make a decent match for." Lambert grinned, "At least that is what I've read in a few interesting books."

"They would do that to their only son?" Geralt frowned, "That much petty because he enjoyed himself at school. Who cares about virginity?"

"People who go to war over a patch of ground that is useless," Lambert replied, "That can trace their name to before humans could write. Arseholes." Lambert put away the whetstone. "My concern what the hell was up with his scent. He pregnant and they trying to hide it?"

"No, my nose would catch a pregnancy, no potion or masking cloth can hide that from me," Geralt said, "It was to hide his fear of me." They all sort of nodded, it seemed like the most logical reason, but they were all clearly unhappy with it.

"Did you dislike the look of him?"

"No," Geralt replied. Julian was a handsome young man, the baby fat mostly gone, and he had gorgeous eyes. "I need some air," he said. He left them and went out around the back of the estate. Servants were busy setting up everything for the next day. He couldn't stop himself and helped move chairs and tables. He tried to ask about Julian, but none would answer his questions. Eventually he felt a gaze on his back and he looked up.

Julian was in a window staring down. Geralt gave a nod, and Julian gave on in return. They stared at each other through the glass for a moment, before Geralt went back to helping the servants. When he looked back up the man was gone. 

Geralt eventually returned to the suite. Only Eskel was waiting for him. "What?" Geralt asked.

"Note was slid under your door," Eskel replied. He handed it to Geralt. "I stayed just in case," he added softly.

Geralt broke the unmarked seal on the page, and there were just a handful of words on the page, but the script was very fine, which meant the letters wouldn't stay still for him on the page. "I prefer to be called," Geralt read slowly and he couldn't make out the last word, turned the bit of parchment to Eskel.

"Jaskier," Eskel hmmed, "He prefers to be called Jaskier."

"His parents didn't call him that," Geralt looked at the letters. He traced them carefully, because sometimes his finger moving over them, helped them get fixed in his mind. "Jaskier...flower?"

"Buttercup," Eskel said, "Not a nickname related to his scent though. Interesting."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed, "My thanks."

"Don't call him that tomorrow in public," Eskel suggested, “this was just to give you a piece of him, I think.”

“What did you think of him, Eskel?”

“I think that tomorrow is going to be bad,” Eskel said after a moment, “It is going to hurt you and hurt him. What we will have to see is how easily you can move past that, if you can.”

Geralt nodded and accepted Eskel’s hug, then was left alone. He lay on the bed and didn’t sleep a wink.

Jaskier.

His fingers traced the name against his skin, memorizing the shape of the letters so that he’d always be able to read them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: As mentioned last chapter there is a public sex and public biting component to this chapter. It isn't in front of the whole gathered party, but in Jaskier's bedroom with less than 10 people (pulling from old royalty bedding tradition). The wolves bend the situation as much as they can and Geralt doesn't have sex with Jaskier, but it is still a bit humiliating for Jaskier. This section is after Lambert calls Geralt into the house. It is important to shaping the plot and how Jaskier will be responding to Geralt over the next few chapters.

“I…” Geralt looked at Vesemir, “No.” Lambert was snickering, and Geralt threw a knife at him.

“You’re going to look like a court jester,” Lambert said in between chuckles as he caught the knife.

“I wouldn’t talk, they sent omega grey for you," Vesemir reminded him.

“Yeah, I already pissed on it and set it on fire,” Lambert, used the knife to clean out under his nails. Completely unrepentant and Geralt didn't blame him for the vicious satisfaction he was pouring out in the least.

Geralt wondered though, if he could get away with such behaviour, “Can I do that? Because I can do that,” he offered. “Let me do that.”

Vesemir sighed, a sound all the wolves were well familiar with when they were pushing the line a bit, “we can let Lambert get away with that, but not you. These are the sorts of people, who if today doesn’t go exactly how they want, they’ll call it all off.”

“Fine,” Lambert suggested. “Let them.” He looked at Geralt. “Who needs financial stability, we’ve gotten by, and my woodworking is coming along, I dunno we can stud Geralt at a brothel, that would bring coin in. We’d manage.”

Geralt ignored the bright red clothes he would be forced in soon for a moment, to move over to Lambert. “I’m going to hug you,” he gave the warning as he always did and slowly pulled the omega in, nuzzled his neck. “Thank you,” he whispered against Lambert’s neck. Not for the suggestion of studding Geralt out, but that he was willing to give up the security of a noble match for their school. “I’m going to be fine.”

Lambert tugged on his hair a bit, “No you won’t, you have to wear red.”

Geralt shuddered a bit. “It is so bright,” he whined.

“Better than this,” Eskel said as he came into the room. They all looked at him.

“Well, you usually wear brown armor?” Lambert offered. “Just not, you know, the colour of pig shit. Nice brown, like cow shit.”

Eskel was in clothes that were meant to scream I am a beta and of no consequence. Geralt gave Lambert a last squeeze and went over to hug Eskel. “You look better than I will shortly.”

“Alpha red?” Geralt nodded. “They seem to really want to play up tradition today. At least Vesemir got to wear the green of the parent of the alpha.” Eskel sighed a bit. “Tomorrow morning we can leave, with money and supplies.”

“After I mate and fuck a complete stranger.”

“I have a bit of a plan to make that a little easier,” Eskel offered. “Trust me?”

Geralt kissed his temple, “Always,” it was a simple and true thing. He trusted his pack more than anything else in the world. Bath water was brought and Geralt appreciated two days in a row, that was a luxury that he was used to only in winter at the keep. He scrubbed with the soap he was given and it was completely scentless, presumably so that his ‘alpha’ scent would shine through. “Think his scent will be muted again today?” It would be an insult if it was.

“I think so, and I think I know why,” Vesemir was reading a book, and had half a dozen stacked beside him. Geralt knew that Vesemir was going to be stealing those books for their library at home. The man always stole books from nobility who annoyed him. “He is being muted because he has a strong scent, and they are worried it would be too much for you.”

“You mean because of general sensitivity?” Geralt frowned, the population at large didn’t necessarily understand how heightened the witcher senses were. He liked that option better than they were muting it so Jaskier wouldn't smell of the pure fear of being married to a monster.

Vesemir shook his head, “No, because they think a strong alpha like you would reject an omega with a heavy scent, that maybe you two aren’t compatible at a fundamental level. They don’t want you to find that out until after everything is signed and sealed.” He flipped a page. “Honestly? I have a gut feeling, they intensely dislike their child, and we intensely dislike them. Might mean Julian is not so bad.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, “He prefers to be called Jaskier.” The note had been carefully put into his bags, to be kept. “But not today, formal ceremony have to deal with formal names.” He finished in the bath and dried off. A raised brow to Lambert, and his hair was braided again. The tension in his shoulders released a bit when Lambert draped himself over Geralt’s back, let his scent soothe, but he couldn’t linger because Geralt couldn’t go to his mating ceremony smelling like another omega.

He dressed in the frankly absurd clothes, it wasn’t even the red of blood, but a bright aggressive colour, that seared his eyes. They fit, just, and were itchy. Clearly expensive, but itchy. They chafed, and he almost wondered if that was the point, so he’d want to shed them, ravish the omega. Geralt hated the nobility. He took a few breaths and Vesemir stood next to him. “We thank you, for doing this for us, alpha,” Vesemir said, as he never did. They all generally agreed, pretended, that Vesemir was the pack leader, when it was really Geralt in the end, the only alpha of them. Geralt leaned into the touch when Vesemir cupped his neck, and brought their foreheads together. The other two did the same, and they walked outside to wear the ceremony was happening. 

They stood where they were told, and guests sat. It was not the air of a joyous mating, but one of obligation, of duty. A typical marriage for nobility, and there was no real frame of reference for the wolves anyways. Geralt could hear raised voices from the window he had seen Jaskier in the night before, but only could pick out a handful of words. The woman seemed to be reminding Jaskier of his duty and that his wants were irrelevant after all the shame he had brought to the family.

“I like him already,” Lambert whispered. 

Soon enough music started up and the Lord of Lettenhove and his wife came and sat down. Geralt looked and there was Jaskier at the garden doors. He was in omega grey with white trim for a mating ceremony, and it leeched the colour out of his skin. There were flowers in his hands and Geralt saw him put them down, a fine tremor in his fingers. There was that fire in his eyes, before it was once again banked. The flowers were not picked up again. Geralt thought maybe it was a small act of defiance.

He rather approved of that. Geralt breathed in and as Jaskier approached he could tell that the man’s scent was indeed still being muted. But he liked what he could feel of it. Geralt tried to smile a bit, the muscles of his mouth not quite used to grinning, and he could smell fear rising in the crowd. His smile too much like a baring of teeth, and he let his expression fall back into neutrality.

Jaskier was next to him and they stood there, looking at each other. Geralt had difficulties reading people on the best days, and when a man was deliberately blanking his face like Jaskier was, there was nothing he could draw from him. But he saw the man was wearing the bracelet that Geralt brought him. That was something he supposed. The alderman began to read, and the ceremony went as it was supposed to; they said their words, had their hands bound together, and Geralt promised to protect and guide the guide. He sneered a bit at guide, because that just seemed infantalizing. There was almost an equal sneer on Jaskier’s face when he promised to obey. Geralt gave a small smile at that and Jaskier almost responded.

At the end he was told to scent his omega, and he leaned into the man’s neck, rubbed his nose against the spot. Geralt could feel the magic pressing down against Jaskier’s neck. So that is how they did it. Surface magic vs a potion. Plus side, that meant it was removed much quicker. It didn’t have to leave the system, it just had to be removed. “Jaskier,” he whispered against the skin, quiet enough that his pack couldn’t even hear it, but Jaskier jolted a bit at hearing it.

The ceremony was done, and soon the fete began which was what the guests truly cared about, the free alcohol, the excess of food. Geralt growled a little when Jaskier was pulled away by his family. He turned to Eskel. “Run interference? If I have to fuck him tonight, I’d like to at least have a conversation with him before that.” None of the wolves commented that their one request for the ceremony was ignored - they had expected that.

Eskel nodded and was clearly making a plan. But it was a long plan, because it was three hours before he was given a chance, when people were starting to be loose. Geralt and Jaskier were supposed to dance together, but Jaskier’s parents made a speech about not putting a noble warrior through the awkwardness of dancing before a crowd. Instead Jaskier lead his mother out on the dance floor and it was perfectly executed, a perfectly boring dance. The crowd applauded and then things livened up a bit. Geralt watched Eskel give a signal, and Vesemir moved to distract Jaskier’s father, and Eskel his mother, then Lambert stripped off his doublet and began an rather insane solo dance that drew so many eyes that no one noticed Geralt moving towards Jaskier. 

He cleared his throat quietly, but just loudly enough that Jaskier noticed him. Jaskier slowly took one step back and then another, waiting for his parents to notice him moving, but his pack were annoying and determined, being very effective distractions. If he went much further he would be noticed, but it was still a chance. “I’m Geralt,” was all Geralt could come up with. Fuck, he had had hours to think of what to say and that was what he managed. His name; a learned man like Jaskier was going to assume he was wed to a simpleton.

“I know,” Jaskier said. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Geralt waited, but the man wasn’t saying anything else. “I…I’ll protect your dignity as much as I can, during the…you know,” he couldn’t manage to say the public fucking.

“The, you know?” Jaskier actually turned and met his gaze, “I don’t know,” he said. “What dignity needs protecting?”

Geralt stepped back in horror, he saw Jaskier flinch at the scent of him. He looked to Eskel who was glancing over, having caught the scent as well. Eskel didn’t give a fuck, and pushed around the woman. “What?” Eskel said coming over.

Jaskier pulled away from them, and Geralt couldn’t focus on that right now. “He doesn’t know what is to come,” Geralt whispered.

“I will fix this,” Eskel promised. “Go for a walk.”

Geralt took a glance at Jaskier who was trying to maintain his composure, but clearly overwhelmed by two angry witchers, one of whom was the alpha monster he had just been bound to. Geralt hurried away, went for a walk in the fields to calm himself down. He settled in to meditate a bit, only bringing himself up when he heard a witcher’s whistle. It had gone full dark and the party was clearly fully intoxicated by the sounds from the garden.

There was no sign of Jaskier and a handful of other people which must mean it was time. Lambert was standing at the doors, the one who had given the call, and Jaskier’s mother was surrounded people, moaning about what a disappoint Julian was, that this was the best they could match him for. Geralt cast a very small igni as he walked by and lit her dress on fire. 

Lambert grinned at him, highly approving of the mischief and led him upstairs. “Vesemir insisted that this be in his room, to make him more comfortable. Trust us?”

“Of course,” Geralt said softly.

“We’ll do our best,” Lambert promised.

Geralt went into the room, and could smell the anger coming off of Eskel and Vesemir. He looked around the room tried to sort where the threat was, and Lambert was going acrid beside him. Geralt followed Lambert’s gaze and he bit back a snarl, but enough of the noise came out that every human in the room flinched.

The man who performed the ceremony was holding an omega leash.

Attached to his omega.

“No,” Geralt couldn’t stop himself from growling. 

“Fucking right, no,” Lambert snarled and he was kneeling in front of Jaskier who was naked. A knife cut through the leather around Jaskier’s neck and the crowd gathered gasped in shock. “Wolves are wild creatures, and you do not leash them.”

“It is tradition for -” the lord began.

“We’ve done a lot of this to your traditions, and I can’t help but note that our tradition that we requested was left out of the ceremony,” Eskel commented. “Since you wouldn’t allow us our very simple request, you’ll allow us this. Otherwise we walk away.”

Geralt had no idea what they were on about, but he saw Lambert gesture to come forward and he moved in front of Jaskier, held out a hand. 

“He should cr -”

“I should slit your throat if you finish that sentence,” Lambert growled, and all the wolves nodded in agreement.

Geralt looked down at Jaskier and nodded. “Shall we?” He tried to calm his scent, make it less aggressive, less angry. Jaskier took his hand and Geralt helped him up. If Geralt was more of a noble knight, like in the stories he sometimes read, he would have kept his gaze on Jaskier’s face, but there was nakedness right there and he looked.

Jaskier was in decent shape, and rather covered in hair for an omega, which Geralt certainly didn’t object to. A sweet cock that he wanted to lick at, but he couldn’t because very particular behaviour would be expected of him right now. They went over to the bed and Jaskier sort of just seemed resigned and climbed up onto it, waited on his hands and knees, presented himself.

Geralt undressed, enjoyed the revulsion for his body that was on the face of the people watching, the scars, the large cock all seemed off putting to their refined sensibilities. Jaskier wasn’t looking at all. The moment Geralt was on the bed, the other wolves moved and stood as a wall between the watching eyes and Geralt and Jaskier.

“They have to fuck, and Geralt has to bite him in your presence to make it all official, you never said that you had to see every little bit of it,” Eskel said. He smiled, and all three pulled out daggers that they had hidden on their person. “Unless of course, you’d like to challenge us on our tradition of the wolf pack protecting each other’s dignity.”

Geralt adored his family, though he’d never say it out loud. He ran a soothing hand down Jaskier’s back. He’d love to turn the man around, see his face, but these assholes would want it in this traditional position. Geralt knew though that he wouldn’t be able to get hard, not with all this. But they had a wall protecting them from sight. He grunted a bit for show, then ran his hands over Jaskier, tried to soothe, comfort. He didn’t say anything, just touched Jaskier but always his, back, hips, legs, not to be too intimate.

“A quiet alpha,” the alderman quieted. “I expected more vocal claiming.”

“What a pretty little omega, ready for my cock, you are so needy aren’t you, yeah you filthy slut, you are going to scream when I knot you, never felt what I’m going to give you, your little needy hole is going to feel so good around me,” Lambert said in a completely flat voice as he stood there protecting them from view. "Going to ruin you, forever, and other bullshit that only crappy alphas say in bed, when they can't actually deliver the goods."

Jaskier quivered under Geralt’s hands and for a moment, Geralt was worried that he was crying, but then the smallest laugh, more a breath than anything, escaped Jaskier’s lips before he controlled himself. Geralt moved his hand a bit away from Jaskier but it should still look like he was fingering him.

“Will you just mount my son already, I want to go back to the party,” the man snapped.

“Well isn’t it good to know that you are a pathetic lover,” Vesemir replied calmly. “Odd, that a wolf has better manners than nobility. But perhaps not so odd, my son is better than most I have met.”

Geralt flushed a bit with that, and then moved a little closer to Jaskier. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

He could feel the tension in Jaskier, as he was confused by it all, but then the man said “Yes, alpha I await your claim of me.”

Geralt moved and thrust his hips, pretended he was entering the lad, but at most skin brushed against skin.

“Fuck, so big,” Jaskier whined, “Please slowly, it is too much.”

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief that Jaskier was playing along. Geralt rocked his hips and occasionally his cock swung enough to brush against Jaskier, it couldn’t be helped, but they needed it to seem real. Jaskier was pretending it was all too much and almost crying, and Geralt hated how pleased his father looked by that. “Going to knot you now,” Geralt tried to put some aggression in his voice for that. 

He managed to stop the flinch he wanted to do, when Jaskier cried out about how much it hurt. The omega was a very good actor, and was saying all the things that Geralt never wanted to be, never wanted to hear in his bed,. But they had to sell the show. Geralt had to bite the man now, claim him as there was no way to fake that, and he leaned over. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for all of this,” he whispered and there was a small nod. Geralt bit hard, and this time Jaskier’s cry of pain was sincere, because a claiming mark outside of a heat was a painful thing. He laved the mark, nuzzled to soothe, and they collapsed on the bed. 

Everyone else nodded pleased and filed out of the room, as they couldn’t fathom that things were perhaps not according to plan. The second it was only the wolves and Jaskier in the room, Geralt rolled away, covered Jaskier, and threw on his small clothes. He refused to return to the ghastly ceremony clothes. “Jaskier, are you fine?” he asked. He watched Jaskier give him that same blank gaze, as he pulled the blankets up. No, not quite the same, there was confusion in it. 

“I am fine. Thank you for your kindness,” he said softly. “Can you leave now?”

“No, otherwise they’ll know we lied. Have to give it about thirty minutes,” Geralt explained. “The others can leave though?” When Jaskier gave a nod, the others left and Geralt went to sit in a chair. There was a book and he opened it. He pretended to read, and Jaskier just lay there. “We’ll you want us to linger or leave on the morrow?”

There was harsh laugh, “they are kicking us out tomorrow, want to be rid of us. I -” he cleared his throat. “Whatever my alpha wants, I will abide.”

“Then we leave tomorrow, early, put as much space between us and this house.” Enough time had probably passed. “Goodnight, Jaskier, until tomorrow.”

There was a faint nod and nothing else. Geralt left and went to his suite. The others were all dressed and packed, and Geralt let out a sigh and switched clothes. They all went outside and camped under the stars together. “He hates me,” Geralt said.

“Well you do have a punchable face,” Lambert said, even as he wrapped Geralt’s arm around himself.

“Time will tell,” Eskel offered.

“Julian hates you, curious what Jaskier thinks,” Vesemir replied.

Geralt didn’t quite fully understand that, but it didn’t really matter. Tomorrow would bring what it would bring.


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning they saw servants readying a wagon with two good size horses to pull it. Inside the small wagon was wine, furs, and a few other necessities as the contract promised. Vesemir was handed a hefty purse, and everything seemed to be in order. Geralt was a bit confused though, because it didn’t seem that there was much in the way of personal belongings for Jaskier. He stopped a servant. “What of Jaskier’s things?”

“We were told he was only allowed what he could himself carry. There are to be no extra supplies for him.” The servant looked pained at admitting that, and Geralt couldn’t stop the low noise that came out of his throat. The servant scuttled away. Geralt went over and frowned at the four guards on horseback. 

“Why are you here?”

“A personal escort to the border,” one replied.

“I suggested they weren’t needed, but since they wouldn’t listen, I’ve decided to just ignore them,” Vesemir said. “I thought about killing them, but not worth the time to clean my blade after.” 

Geralt enjoyed the way the guards moved away from Vesemir, and the utter indifference he had to their very existence. He watched the door of the front of the manor house and Jaskier emerged still in omega grey, noble traveling clothes, nothing meant for the open air like they were traveling in. There was no other horse, so it must mean that he was to have the wagon. He looked broken before he blanked out his gaze. Geralt went over to him, “Is it that you are leaving the security and safety of your home?”

“No, alpha, I am yours to guide,” Jaskier replied. “Where am I to be?”

“On the wagon, Lambert will sit with you, unless you are an adept hand with a wagon?”

“I am not,” Jaskier smiled at him, “I will not delay our journey any longer.” He walked carrying a single pack, and when he put it in the wagon, he seemed to by rote reach to his other shoulder, but it was empty. There was a slump to his shoulders before he climbed up. Lambert looked to Geralt who gestured to the wagon and to get moving. Lambert nodded and was next to Jaskier in a moment and they were off, the guards two in front, two behind and Vesemir behind that, and Geralt and Eskel saw that his crossbow was at the ready.

Geralt turned and walked into the house. “Where is it?” he growled. He felt Eskel come to his side.

“It is hardly our fault if you lost Julian already, he is your problem now,” Julian’s mother said. 

Geralt did his best not to rely on his alpha scent to intimidate people, they were scared enough of him with his size and reputation that he always held himself in check. But right now he did not give a fuck, and didn’t try to hold his scent back. The woman flinched and began to cry completely overwhelmed by him. “What did he not carry, that he is clearly missing?”

“His lute,” she answered, almost compelled to by the strength of his alpha authority. “He is to serve your needs, he doesn’t need the instrument that destroyed him.”

“Is it in his room?” she nodded. “Eskel,” Geralt said and Eskel ran up. Geralt looked at the woman. “I will never understand humans,” he said, “all this because he wasn’t a virgin?”

“We could have promised him to someone important, he could have mattered.” She glared at him, “Instead he ruined himself, and us that our only option was to bind ourselves to animals.”

Geralt crouched in front of her and she tried to scuttle away but there was nowhere to go. “Us animals, are very protective you know. So I would think very carefully about how you speak of him in the future. Have a good winter, we will return in the spring, to clear out any monsters. And depending on what we hear of how you spoke of your son over the cold months and dark nights, we might have a very loose interpretation of what constitutes a monster.”

“I have it,” Eskel said, holding a case, that Geralt presumed must hold a lute. 

“See you in the spring,” Geralt said and they left. “Fuck,” Geralt groaned.

“They are the worst,” Eskel agreed. “I cannot imagine being raised by that sort.”

“No,” Geralt said, “But they cannot imagine how we were raised. We need to catch up.” It wouldn’t take much, they’d be going at an amble at most. Geralt swing the lute across his back and they went at a cantor, and sure enough easily reached the party. He slowed Roach and the weather was good, so there were worse rides. It was a couple hours and then the guards stopped. 

“Julian, we are at the border, we leave you now, to your fate with the butcher. We’ll put up a grave marker for you,” the one said, and they all laughed before they turned their horses and left. 

Geralt looked at them all and they crossed the bridge that took them out of Kerack and into Temeria. They rode for a bit, and Geralt suggested they stop for lunch. Those on horses dismounted, and he moved close and offered Jaskier his hand. He helped the man step down, and he nodded. “I’m not going to kill you.” He thought it a good sentence to offer. A reassurance.

“I am yours to do with as you will,” Jaskier said. 

“My will has no intention to kill you,” Geralt repeated. “And here.” He took the lute off his shoulder and handed the case to Jaskier. “This is what you were missing?”

The blank facade cracked, and Jaskier’s eyes were wet. “It was. It…I wanted to be a bard.” He laughed sadly. “I was informed that was foolish.”

“It is a difficult path,” Geralt said. “Do you have the talent for it?”

“I would have liked the chance to find out,” Jaskier’s voice was quiet, resigned. 

“Food,” Lambert shouted and they went over. 

It was a quiet meal, none of them sure what to say to Jaskier, and not quite sure if they could be themselves around him. Geralt was just pleased that Jaskier ate a decent bit, drank some water.

Jaskier was almost smiling as he opened the case and then he let out a guttural cry, his omega scent changing to heartbreak and sorrow. None of them thought, the other three pulled their weapons out and formed a protective circle around Jaskier and Geralt knelt next to him. He wondered if there was a serpent in the case. He checked, and frowned. “Is that how a lute is supposed to travel?”

“No,” Jaskier said. He pulled it out of the case, and let out a sob that the neck and body were not together, “No, they destroyed it.” He carefully put the piece back in the case and locked it. Geralt watched Jaskier stand and he walked over to put the case in the wagon. He then moved away from them all, but he stopped before Geralt could caution for him to stay in sight.

The scream of defeat, anger, bitterness that came out of Jaskier was horrific, and Geralt had to reach out. “Anyone,” he pleaded, because he he didn’t anchor himself against someone, he’d go over there and that was the last thing Jaskier would want, he would loathe Geralt’s comfort. Eskel’s hand connected with his and Geralt pressed himself against the beta, breathed in the almost neutral scent. 

He then felt Lambert’s hand in the small of his back. “Huh,” Lambert said. 

“What?”

“They wanted to destroy him. Break him. But he isn’t broken,” Lambert was watching Jaskier. “That is a man being remade right before our eyes.”

“Into what? Whom?”

“How the fuck should I know, we’ve only known your mate for 48 hours,” Lambert snorted a bit, “But we are a clean slate aren’t we? Wonder what he’s going to write on us, what we’re going to write on him.” They all stood there and didn’t pretend that they weren’t watching him. But they gave him space. They all damn well knew to not approach a wounded animal in that much anger. Eventually Jaskier quieted and returned to them. 

Geralt moved forward in front of the pack. “We’ll buy you a new lute,” he offered.

Jaskier’s hands were undoing the doublet and he stripped it off angrily. Geralt watched him ball it up and throw it as far as he could, which wasn’t very far, being fabric. They all watched it flutter to the ground. Jaskier turned to him. “I am never wearing omega grey again.” He was clearly trying to look defiant, that he wasn’t scared of his alpha’s reaction.

Geralt just shrugged, “we need to be on the road.” He went to piss behind a tree and when he returned, Jaskier was still just standing there. “Problem?”

“I just said, I refuse to wear omega grey ever again. Did you not hear me?”

“No, I heard you, does not wearing those clothes stop you from getting in the wagon?” Geralt frowned, “Are you incapable of travel without those clothes?”

“I don’t understand,” Jaskier was looking at him.

“Neither do I,” Geralt stared right back.

“Melitele save me, that I’m the brains of this operation. You, new guy, Geralt does not care what you wear. Like at all, so long as you can travel in it and survive the elements. Do you need that ugly, but clearly expensive doublet to sit in the wagon that I am driving?”

“No,” Jaskier said slowly. “It is warm today, I am fine in my shirt. But it is unseemly?”

“We’re losing time,” Geralt said. “Let’s get moving.” He was sure the matter was done with, because what the hell did he care what Jaskier wore, it was his damn body. But the omega smelled lost, confused and that made him want to protect. He tried to think of what to say. “You look pleasant enough in your shirt. If you are cold, let me know, we’ll put a fur over your shoulders.” He smiled a bit and mounted Roach, that had solved it. They set out and Geralt could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him regularly but didn’t look over - he understood trying to get the measure of a man. They arrived at a small village and all of the wolves were still good to go on a few more hours but when Geralt looked over, he noticed that Jaskier was looking weary, travel worn.

“We’ll get a room for the night,” Geralt said and saw the relief on Jaskier’s face before he schooled his features again.

“We can get three more hours, easily,” Eskel commented. He looked up at the clear sky, “Good camping night.” Vesemir grunted in agreement. 

“I am weary and could use a rest,” Geralt tried to get them to understand. 

“Geralt? You are seldom weary,” Eskel replied, so focused on how much they all liked camping out together. 

“I am fine camping,” Jaskier offered.

“Oh,” Eskel winced. “My apologies, of course we will get a room.”

“Actually,” Vesemir said slowly, clearly planning. “Eskel and I will go ahead, we can buy a few supplies and get to Kaer Morhen a few days faster than you with the wagon. Ready the keep as befits our new noble guest.”

“I am unworthy of such attention, I should be the one to -”

Lambert rolled his eyes, “So they break your brain, along with your scent?”

“Oh, umm, well,” Jaskier rubbed his neck a bit, but then didn’t say anything more.

Geralt thought of the journey ahead. “Go on,” he told Eskel and Vesemir. “It will likely take us four or five days longer than you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“There are two routes to the keep, the one for a wagon takes longer,” Geralt explained. “It will be a bit over grown which will add to the time.” And there was no way they could push the omega to anywhere near the pace they usually kept when on the road. “Go,” Geralt told them. Vesemir nodded and left, Eskel came over and they scented each other a bit, Geralt nuzzled him, then Eskel was off, it wasn’t long before they were out of sight. Geralt turned to the two omegas on the wagon, one with the smirk that never left his face, and the other just looked confused. “Jaskier? A problem?”

“You are…not what I expected.”

Lambert snorted, “I can guess what you expected.”

“You really can’t,” Jaskier argued. “I can go further.”

“We’ll have to ask a lot of you as we approach Kaer Morhen, we can take it easy until then,” Geralt declared. They rode into town,found stables for the horses and Lambert said that he would spend the night in the wagon, to protect their goods. “Are you sure?” Geralt cupped his neck. “We can all -”

“Come on, Geralt, you saw this town. Someone would try to steal our shit.”

He wasn’t wrong, but then he seldom was about people. “Can I?” Geralt asked and received a nod. He leaned in, scented him, and Lambert smelled normal, like rage, bitterness, and warm mead. “What do I do?” he whispered against Lambert’s skin. Because he had no idea how to cope with Jaskier alone, what he was supposed to say, how he was supposed to act.

“Geralt, we’re all shitty with people,” Lambert whispered back. “Don’t like…kill him? Maybe feed him?”

Reasonable advice. Geralt kissed his temple. “Shout, if you need me.” He gave a last nuzzle. “That is not me questioning your abilities,” he added swiftly because he knew Lambert was about to stab him, “it is because I am out of sorts.”

“Then regrow your fucking balls, alpha,” Lambert said, and Geralt had to laugh a bit. Jaskier had gotten down from the wagon while Lambert and Geralt had been breathing each other in. Taken his pack from the back.

“Ready?”

“I need to put on a doublet,” Jaskier said.

“Are you cold?” Geralt couldn’t tell. He found the air a good temperature, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel to a human. “There are furs.”

“No, I’m fine, but just -” Jaskier frowned at him. “No doublet on.”

Geralt looked at Lambert, who just shrugged in confusion. “No, you threw it off and left it in that field? Do you remember that? You were mad and -”

“Yes, I remember you oaf,” Jaskier snapped, and then blinked. “I mean - fuck.” 

“No, he is an oaf quite regularly, but yeah we don’t get it. Why are you so hung up on doublet?”

“Because I look like a whore without one,” Jaskier said.

“No you don’t,” they both replied. Geralt thought about it. “Whores generally have skin showing. A lot of it. I guess, I see your neck? But I saw that in the doublet too.” Geralt shrugged. “If you want to wear one, fine, if you don’t fine. I want food. Lambert.” He gave a nod and started walking. Towns were all laid out fairly consistently and it would be easy enough to find the inn. He heard a light jog and then it stopped, Jaskier’s steps matching his, but a little behind. Geralt reached back and pulled Jaskier up beside him. “I don’t like people walking close to my back like that, makes me think I’m being stalked and I don’t want to accidentally stab you.”

“Do you want to on purpose stab me?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt found it interesting that he couldn’t smell fear on him, but he was still muted. “No,” Geralt said. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“My parents said you would likely kill me over the winter with your alpha lust or your barely restrained alpha rage.”

It was as if he was discussing the weather. Geralt didn’t answer, just got them a room, asked for stew and pointed to a table in the corner they would be seated at. He sat and so did Jaskier and they just watched each other. Food came and they were half way through eating when Geralt asked, “Did you believe them?”

Jaskier had a beautiful smile, he thought.

“Not really, and not after how you protected me during the public humiliation,” Jaskier said. He was about to say more but glanced over and then quieted. That blank look returned to his face and he sort of hunched in his shoulders.

Geralt glanced over and there was a man staring at them. “Know him?”

“We should go up to the room, so that I may be a proper omega to you,” Jaskier said, loud enough to carry across the room to the man that was staring at them. Geralt didn’t respond at first, and he found himself kicked under the table. He looked at Jaskier, the surprise barely visible on his face, and there was another kick. “May I be of service to you, oh fierce and intimidating alpha?”

If Lambert had been there, he would have been laughing hysterically. Jaskier glared though and Geralt cleared his throat, “Yes, you must…serve me…from your…proper place…you lowly omega?” It turned into a bit of a question at the end but it must have been enough because Jaskier gave a faint nod and they went upstairs. Geralt closed the door. “Will he follow and listen?”

“No, he’ll likely stay down there to see if I try to sneak away,” Jaskier said. “How long until we are out of Temeria?”

“Three or four days,” Geralt said. “A night in Aedirn, a couple in Kaedwen, and a couple camping until we are at Kaer Morhen.” 

“Can we make it a bit quicker?”

“Which part of the journey?” Geralt asked, though he was fairly certain he knew, “the Temeria part?” There was a nod. “They’ll have guessed at our route, they are watching to make sure you don’t run?” There wasn’t much of a reaction. Geralt didn’t have Lambert’s understanding of humans, or Eskel’s understanding of how to put puzzles together. But he had a good gut instinct. And he gut was hung up on that word sullied. “They are watching to see that you behave.” Geralt blinked. “Your scent isn’t muted to hide your fear of me, it is to hide your fear of them.” Geralt looked to Jaskier’s neck. “Jaskier?”

“Please,” Jaskier was looking at him. “Please, I can survive going faster. They won’t, they don’t care about anything east of the mountains, heathen country.”

Geralt rolled his eyes a bit at that. “We can shave a day off, maybe a day and a half,” Geralt held up his hand when Jaskier looked ready to protest. “You might be able to handle quicker then, but we’ll need that energy for the trip up the mountain. We can make it shorter, but pushing you too hard now, could be to our detriment later.”

“I understand,” Jaskier said. “What now?”

“Now, you rest, I clean my weapons. Then eventually, tomorrow will be here.” 

“You don’t want to fuck?”

“Not really, don’t love fucking people who think I might kill them. Who think I am a monster.” Geralt had done that far too often in his life.

Jaskier looked at him. “My parents wanted me to believe that about you.” He stripped to his small clothes and rested in the bed. “I don’t though.”

“No?” Geralt raised a brow. “What do you believe about me?”

“You’ve already treated me better than my blood kin have since I was 7, and you are getting me the fuck away from them. Mostly I believe you are better than any other option I could have had.”

The surprised the fuck out of Geralt. He wanted to ask more, but Jaskier rolled over and Geralt knew that he wouldn’t learn any more that night. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for mercy killing of an animal

“No, no, no, you have to fix it,” Jaskier begged. “You have to know how to fix it right? Fix it!”

“We aren’t carpenters, pup,” Lambert growled. He had been flung from the wagon when the wheel broke, and it was a miracle that the horses hadn’t spooked, and also thrown Jaskier out. Geralt had dismounted Roach, made sure the horses would stay put, and was now trying to check Lambert over. Lambert swatted him away, “I’m fine, go away.”

“I’m going to touch you now,” Geralt warned and did a quick check, which was hard considering the way Lambert was squirming and then tried to stab him. “Nothing broken,” he said, relieved.

“I know that, I know what a broken bone feels like, I told you that I was fine, you could listen,” Lambert stabbed him. But not a real stab, more just a reminder that Lambert was almost as strong as him. He had pulled it too, so it was just a slash instead of a knife sticking out of his skin. Didn’t even go past the first layer of skin, which hmm, maybe that meant Lambert was secretly hurting. Geralt pulled him in for a cuddle and scented him, to soothe Lambert. There was a huff, but he didn’t pull away and Geralt scented him just a bit more. “This is why I avoid you like the plague on the path,” Lambert tried to growl but he was leaning into the cuddle. “I am fine you idiot, just a bit of bruising.”

Geralt gave a last nuzzle, and they both stood. Jaskier was staring at them in a mix of shock, horror, and for a moment there was something else in there that Geralt couldn’t understand. “He stabbed you!”

Geralt lifted his hand to his neck, and a bit of blood came away. “More a slash than a stab.”

“If I wanted to stab him, I would have stabbed him.”

“I was fussing. He’s always warned, fuss and get stabbed. I made a choice,” Geralt just shrugged. “It will heal in about ten minutes.”

“Really?” Jaskier was still staring at his neck. “But your omega stabbed you?”

Geralt was confused, “Lambert stabbed me, not you,” he said it slowly, wondered if the trauma of the broken wheel had somehow caused a slight mental break. It seemed likely with the way Jaskier thought they could somehow fix it. “This is Lambert, you are Jaskier.”

“I know who I am,” Jaskier glared at him. He got down from the wagon and came over. “I’m just saying, you don’t have a problem with your omega being so violent with you?”

“What omega? You’re my omega and you’ve barely spoken to me,” Geralt looked around as if some magical omega he didn’t know about would appear. “Lambert, has he spoken to me?”

“No, not me either. Which for man who wanted to be a bard, he is really silent, I don’t know that that is a viable career match up.”

“How did you know I wanted to be a bard, are you two talking about me?”

“You said it when we were all around,” Lambert reminded him. Geralt was really starting to worry about Jaskier’s mind. Was he simple, and that was why his parents hated him? Maybe at that schooling was fake.

“You were paces away and I was quiet,” Jaskier said.

Oh, he didn’t realize, shit. How much didn’t he actually know about witchers? “Jaskier, we have enhanced hearing,” Geralt explained. “What do you know about witchers? Honestly know?”

“I’m sorta mated to one, and they kill monsters,” Jaskier said, “And apparently cannot fix wagons when we are close to the border that I am rather desperate to cross!” 

“Lambert,” Geralt said, and Lambert nodded, went to the wagon and started sorting things. “Jaskier come with me.”

“Why? Where?”

Geralt gestured, “Into the field there, far enough away from Lambert that you’ll be able to pretend that he doesn’t overhear us” Geralt started walking and could hear Jaskier following. He went about fifty paces away and nodded. “He’ll only catch every third or so word.” That was a bit of a lie, Lambert had the best hearing of all of them and would hear everything. But he also didn’t want to go any further in case there were troubles with the broken wagon. “Jaskier, I am sorry, but we are unlikely to cross the border today like we planned.”

“It is only a few hours away!” Jaskier was gesturing wildly. “I can practically see it.”

“The wagon is a loss, we are too far from a village to bring anyone to repair it,” Geralt was keeping calm. “That means that Lambert is currently fully going through the gifts your parents gave, to assess what is actually worth keeping and it will be loaded onto the pull horses. That means 2 burdened horses and only one riding one, and Lambert hates riding, and you -” Geralt had no clue.

“Horses and I do not especially get along,” Jaskier admitted. His face fell, “You really can’t fix it?”

“Can you?”

“I have mastered the seven liberal arts,” Jaskier huffed, and puffed and drew himself up like an angry kitten. Geralt had always adored kittens, but they didn’t like witchers very much. “I can speak five languages, and could write a song that would make you weep.”

“So, if you can’t fix a broken wheel of a wagon, why should we be able to?” Geralt said.

“Because look at you, and all those rather thick muscles,” Jaskier protested. He was staring at Geralt’s shoulders. “They are really…thick.”

Geralt shrugged, moved his arms a bit, and Jaskier was still staring for some reason, likely thinking about all the killing Geralt had done. “For killing monsters. Vesemir has a bit of talent with wood but he isn’t here, and this would likely be outside his abilities as well.” He saw that it was finally sinking in. “I am sorry.”

“The bite on my neck is healing, and you aren’t renewing it.”

Geralt reared back a bit. “I won’t hurt you like that.”

“If their spies see that you aren’t -” Jaskier paced away a bit and then returned. “Bite me. Right now, I can take the pain.”

“I’m not a monster,” Geralt growled.

“Right now you need to be!” Jaskier shouted at him. “If you aren’t they’ll -”

“They’ll what?” Geralt breathed in, but there was still that protective block on his scent. “Why haven’t you stripped that off yet?”

“Because we are still under watch,” Jaskier said, “And you’ll hate my scent, alphas usually do.” Geralt didn’t respond. “Now you are supposed to say you aren’t like most alphas.” Geralt just gave him a look. “Oh, I rather suppose you aren’t, are you?” Jaskier looked over to Lambert and then back. “I understand, you know. Political marriages and all that.”

“Sure,” Geralt agreed, because he didn’t understand at all, but Eskel would in a few days when they were all at the keep. “I’m not going to hurt you like that,” he promised Jaskier.

“No, you’ll hurt me in all sorts of new and interesting ways.” Geralt couldn’t stop the sorrow that seeped into his own scent. “You really don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

Geralt shook his head. “I don’t.”

Jaskier scratched at the healing mark on his neck. “If you don’t want to hurt me, then I need you to hurt me.”

“That makes no sense,” Geralt replied. “You have to tell me what is going on.” But Jaskier’s face had gone blank again, and there was a whistle from Lambert. He went back to the wagon, knew Jaskier was following. “Stay there,” he warned because Lambert’s scent was angry and only growing more so. He was near Lambert, and fuck even for Lambert his scent was bitter. “What?”

“They fucked us over,” Lambert said. “We trusted them, because they were marrying their fucking only omega to us, and we are the wolf school - you are the butcher for fucks sake! Who would screw us like a two crown whore? Apparently the noble family of Lettenhove.”

“What do you mean?” Geralt looked in the wagon. And he quickly realized. It had looked full of gifts and promised supplies, and it was, but after the top couple layers, the quality dropped so much to be laughable. Furs that were matted, threadbare, foodstuffs that would be rotten in another day. Moth eaten fabric. “How much?”

“I mean, we’re us, we can make more use than they realized, but the horses sure as fuck won’t be overburdened.”

“That coin purse they gave Vesemir,” Geralt said slowly, as he pawed through the wagon and started to separate it into things of value and the dross.

“Betting half of it was just metal bits or acorns.” Lambert helped him separate the goods and the piles told a very specific story. Geralt stared at it. They could realistically fit it all on one of the wagon horses. The horses. Geralt hurried to the front of the wagon and checked them over thoroughly. No one knew horses better than him. And it was the same story. One was completely fine, the other now that he was paying attention, he could smell the sickness in it. He checked the horse over and found an injury healed wrong and infection was setting in, too late for anything to be done.

Geralt pressed his face against the horse’s neck. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.

“No,” Lambert spun. “You!” he shouted. “How the fuck do you get your parents to hate you so much, they fuck over witchers? What the shit is this shit?” He was gesturing at the crap goods. “Fuck!” he shouted and stomped away.

“You should go after him,” Jaskier suggested quietly and Geralt shook his head.

“No, this time he would really stab me,” Geralt sighed. “Fuck, I wish I was even surprised by this. Vesemir is going to be so upset.”

“You aren’t?”

“I am angry,” Geralt admitted and he began to carefully pack the goods worth anything, “but he made the contract, bound me to those people, to you, and they thought so little of us as to cheat us.” Geralt took the packed goods and strapped them to the horse. He went over to Roach. “Go, find Lambert.” Roach snorted a bit. “Please, you don’t want to see what I have to do.” Roach head butted him, but went in the same direction that Lambert had set off in. “Jaskier, you don’t ride well but at least can you guide this horse?”

“I can,” Jaskier replied.

“Good, follow Roach, to Lambert.”

“I’d rather not go to your very reasonably angry omega, thank you, I am good right here.”

Geralt shook his head. “Do as I ask.”

“Why should I?” Jaskier countered.

“Because the horse will panic when it sees me slaughter the other horse!” Geralt snapped. “Because your parents hurt an innocent creature and I am going to put it out of its misery, because this journey has been agony for it, but it is a good creature and it was enduring, and I am going to let it find its relief now.”

“Will you put me out of my misery, too?” Jaskier asked and fuck that hurt after all the reassurances that Geralt had been giving him the last few days. Geralt didn’t respond just stripped all the man made gear off the sick horse. Geralt lead the horse into the field that he and Jaskier had been standing in just a few minutes before. He cast axii on the horse to keep it calm. He looked up and saw the other horse had been nudged to follow Roach; Jaskier just stood there watching. From a distance but he didn’t avert his gaze. 

“Thank you, you were a good horse, and now you may rest,” Geralt told the poor creature. His steel blade was out in an instant, the horse dead in the next. He wiped off the blade and walked to Jaskier still with the steel in his hand. He for a moment saw fear in Jaskier’s eyes, but he never once stepped back. Geralt stopped in front of him. “This,” he held the sword at his side, “this will never be raised against you. Only for you.”

“My blood cheated you. Stuck you with trash.”

“Do you mean the goods or yourself?” That seemed to have struck a blow.

“To them it is the same thing,” Jaskier said after a moment.

“And to you?” Geralt waited. “Do you think yourself trash? Thrown to the wolves? Are you in misery?”

“What do I call you?”

That threw Geralt a bit. “You know my name is Geralt.” 

“Yes, but what do you command I call you?” 

Geralt put the sword away. “Call me whatever you like, Jaskier.” He started to walk, following the scent of the horses and of Lambert. When they caught up, Lambert was going through some formations to calm himself down, and Geralt couldn’t help himself. It was an ingrained response. If your brother is training, you should be next to him. He ducked under a sword spin and they moved together, decades of the deadly dance imprinted in their muscles. Geralt felt calm and at peace as he always did after training with one of his brothers and they ended after they had circled each other, their swords resting against each other’s necks. Even a little more spin and one of them would have beheaded the other. But they trusted each other completely and their training, they just stood there swords against skin until Geralt smiled.

“No,” Lambert said. “If you hug me, I will gut you.” Geralt just kept smiling at him. “What?”

“You dealt with your anger in a constructive manner, I am so proud of you.”

“I wasn’t going yell more at him. It isn’t his fault.”

“It isn’t?” Jaskier asked. He looked shocked and confused. “Technically I think it is? Because I ruined the family’s prospects.”

“Your family may have dreamed of prospects but, come on, we all know a lord of Kerack was going to have fuck all, no matter how pure and sweet their only omega’s ass was. It would have been a lateral move whoever they got in earnest. Because I am betting they never could play those sorts of games right, and it fucked their chances. And then you dared to live a life and they could blame it all on you instead of where it belongs.”

“You don’t…you should hate me for being bound to your alpha,” Jaskier said.

Geralt frowned a bit at the inflection in Jaskier’s voice, to emphasize the your like that, but he was the last alpha of Kaer Morhen and if the man was raised by such traditionalists he supposed Jaskier would think of all the others as a part of Geralt.

“Look, and let us be clear I am never fucking saying this again, but it isn’t that he’s an alpha, it’s that he is the goddamn best of us and your parents decided to screw him over. I sort of want to blow up their house, slit open their veins and hang them from tree with their own intestines.” Lambert had that flat scent that meant he was completely serious. “But you didn’t pack this wagon, did you?”

“No, I was mostly confined to my suite since I came home from university.” 

“And you didn’t fuck that bag of coins,” Lambert said.

“We don’t know for -” Geralt cut himself off at the look Lambert gave him, because yeah. 

“No, I didn’t,” Jaskier said and his shoulders straightened. “I did, well I did fuck around a lot at university. I slept with two betas and another omega.”

Geralt stared at him. “Wait.” He had to go walk for a moment and Lambert came up to him. “He said that right, I didn’t imagine it?” He had to have imagined it.

Lambert cleared his throat in an attempt not to laugh. “He did. Oh my fucking gods. He did. He actually said that. Two betas and an omega.”

“No alpha.”

“No alpha.”

“They think he is ruined because of a couple betas and an omega.”

“Well you know, no omega has ever gotten off without a huge perfect alpha knot in their ass. Everyone knows that Geralt. I know I have suffered mightily, never knowing the supreme joy of -”

Geralt couldn’t contain the laugh any longer. “Two whole betas, and an omega, fuck Lambert.” 

Lambert was laughing too, “Geralt, they aren’t just assholes, they are fucking morons.” Geralt nodded and braced his arm around Lambert’s shoulder to hold himself up because he was laughing just so much. “They were so -” Lambert couldn’t even finish the sentence because of his laughter which was so much that it turned to giggles.

“Excuse me?” Jaskier called. They turned around and he was standing there. “What is so funny? I told you the thing I was supposed to never tell you. I slept with three people.” That just set them off again, they couldn’t help it. “What is so funny about that?”

“Oh gods, he just stamped his foot,” Lambert laughed more. “I wanna keep the cub.”

“We are, I am after all bound to the sullied goods,” Geralt tried to pull it together but couldn’t. “Jaskier, three. Three whole people, none of whom are alphas?”

“Yes? I don’t understand the joke.” Jaskier scowled. “I slept with them all more than once. I’ve had sex at least 10 times.”

“Fuck,” Geralt and Lambert said at the same time and were wheezing from the laughter. Geralt went over and hugged Jaskier, nuzzled him a bit, before he remembered he shouldn’t do that, the man wouldn’t want to. He stepped back but stopped when he saw Jaskier sort of sway towards him. 

“Jaskier, you never slept with an alpha, you aren’t sullied.”

“I assure I am,” Jaskier frowned. “I am a slut.”

“Little cub, three people ten times is not a slut. I have quite literally lost count, a couple decades ago. I promise you, you are not ‘sullied’ with the sex you have had.” Lambert came close and Geralt stepped away so that Lambert could cup a hand around Jaskier’s neck. “No royal court in the north would consider that sullied either. No knot, no cares. Your parents are such morons, they considered you sullied when fucking Queen Calanthe and the King of Aedirn, and another half dozen would not give a shit. This is only the sort of thing cared about by backwater nobility.”

“And witchers?”

“It would be rather wrong of me to care considering how many I’ve bedded,” Geralt said, “Though it is less than Lambert.”

“I am a slut,” Lambert said.

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Jaskier looked shocked and seemed to be waiting for something from Geralt.

Geralt didn’t quite understand. “Why would I?” What did he care what Lambert did on the path, so long as he made it home every winter.

“I…their guards are going to rob you at the border. I wanted us to rush because then maybe they wouldn’t be prepared and we would make it through,” Jaskier blurted out. “I heard them.”

“They think their guards could take us?” Lambert snorted. “Thank fuck we got you away from them little cub, before their stupidity infected you.”

Geralt had to agree with that sentiment. “Let’s go, we’ll face what we face.”

Jaskier took a deep breath. “You don’t think I’m a slut.”

“I’m sure if you work hard at it, we could absolutely make you a slut. It is important for humans to have life goals,” Lambert said earnestly.

“Geralt?”

“Sure we can help you figure that out,” Geralt agreed. He wanted to be supportive of his young omega.

“Are you short a few marbles?”

“We have taken a lot of blows to the head, but mostly we care about things like killing monsters, saving the world. Caring that you’ve had sex ten times is the wrong sort of work,” Geralt replied.

“Oh…I lied, it was 8 times, I wanted to sound impressive.”

“You seem to have survived being raised by idiots, I am impressed.” Geralt gave him a small smile. And Jaskier laughed. Not a polite thing, not that small bit of emotion but a huge belly laugh, that was charming and compelling. Things were looking grim, and it was still a concern that they had been ripped off so, but Jaskier was coming out of his shell more and more.

And Geralt was very intrigued.


	6. Chapter 6

They were having lunch in a tavern, the last village before the border out of Temeria. “Well,” Geralt sighed a bit. “Really, that is just a choice there isn’t it?”

“Fucking hells, why not just carry a sign, we are Lettenhove guards, it would be more subtle.” Lambert drank his ale and tore some bread in half, offered the other bit to Jaskier. “Morons. Utter morons, being so obvious.”

“Has our reputation not made it to Kerack, or just that they overestimate themselves so much?” Geralt wondered. 

“I don’t understand?”

“Your parents,” Geralt tilted his head a bit. “Those are men in their employ.”

“Where? I don’t see any I know,” Jaskier was being far too obvious about searching the room. “Everyone in here looks the same. Either peasant or retired soldier. Like any small village.”

“Boots, little cub. Look at the boots on the seven men at the table over there,” Lambert said pointing a bit with a finger against his mug. “See the stitching at the top, only sewn like that in Kerack and Brugge. That particular leather is wolf tanning, not cow, which is only Kerack and Verden. The heel raise is the style in Kerack and Temeria, ergo from Kerack, and why would men in quality boots like that be here, now, unless they were the guards sent to rob us?”

“You can actually do that?” Jaskier sounded in awe. “Look at boots and tell where someone is from, what they do?”

Geralt just shrugged, “It is obvious.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Jaskier countered.

“Jaskier, I want to wear a lace collar when I meet the King of Temeria,” Lambert suggested and Geralt snorted at the look of revulsion on Jaskier’s face. “What, I think they are very stylish.”

“Three years ago,” Jaskier snapped back, “Only for - oh, knowledge suited to your skill set. You know the boots because you need to be able to recognize soldier from bandit and that sort of thing.”

“These days those are often the one and the same, but knowing the stitching at least lets us know where to send the corpses. Good little cub,” Lambert praised. Geralt noticed how that perked Jaskier up. “What do you figure, Geralt? They going to follow, or leave first to set a ‘trap’?”

Geralt watched them out of the corner of his eye, “Trap,” he said after a moment. “They think they are smarter than us.”

“Sure, Eskel and Vesemir are generally the brains, but we’re the clever ones.”

“I don’t understand that,” Jaskier was watching Lambert, “it is the same, isn’t it?”

“Not all knowledge is the same,” Lambert explained, “Vesemir has read every book ever written or not written about every monster that has dipped a toe on the continent. You want technical answers, history, you go to him. Eskel takes after him, put any words in front of him, he’ll figure out what the person was thinking as they put quill to page.” Lambert finished his ale. “Smartest men I know. Look at Geralt though, can’t read for shit, but can stare at those men and know in a second what they are going to do. Love Eskel, but mead to crowns, I want Geralt at my back every time. Clever is what gets you through it when things go to shit.”

“Excuse me,” Geralt glared at Lambert for spilling that secret. He went to the counter to order some food for the road. He could hear those guards leaving - definitely a trap. Then there were other footsteps, Jaskier leaned on the bar next to him. “What?”

“I don’t…well…lots of soldiers can’t read,” Jaskier said softly. 

“I can read,” Geralt huffed. He looked back at Lambert who looked contrite and then tried to hide it with his I don’t give a fuck face, but it immediately melted back into contrite, because it was the thing they all knew hurt Geralt the most. He gave a nod that he understood Lambert felt like crap. 

“Just not well. When we get to wherever you are taking me. I was a tutor in university, I could teach you,” Jaskier offered.

Geralt looked at him, his face was so open and hopeful and Geralt hated to ruin it, but this wasn’t a thing that could be taught like how Jaskier was thinking. “No, thank you, I get by,” was what he said and he watched the man’s face fall.

“Of course, no, sorry I bothered you.” Jaskier went back to the table and Geralt cursed because he had ruined a moment. He gathered the dried fruit and jerky that was brought and went back to the table. Jaskier was not looking at him.

“I can read,” Geralt said. “I used to read so much. And now I can’t. It hurts.”

“You could just be out of practice?” Jaskier sounded so hesitant.

“It isn’t practice, it is his eyes,” Lambert interjected. Geralt felt Lambert’s ankle brush his under the table. “Geralt is a bit different from the rest of us, that different made it so he understands all the mechanics of reading, and can do it, but it hurts.”

“Letters move on the page, flip,” Geralt explained. “I cannot make out formal writing. It gave me a headache just to read that one sentence you left me.”

“Oh,” Jaskier looked so sad. “I don’t understand.”

“None of us do, I learned how to scribe in a lettering that makes it easier for him, taught myself how to make books so that he could have a few of his favourites, but most of the library just causes him pain.”

“I like reading.”

“Good for you,” Geralt was half sarcastic, half sincere.

“No, I mean, well I do mean that, but I was the one to always volunteer to read passages out loud in school. I love hearing the words of a story out loud. It was the closest I was allowed to get to being a bard. I could. I wouldn’t mind reading out loud to you, if you wanted.”

Geralt looked to Lambert who gave him an eager nod. “That would be nice.”

“I don’t want to take away from the time you two spend together, just maybe a couple times a week?” Jaskier interjected.

“We always have a lot of time. It is winter in a crumbling keep with four men, there is always time,” Geralt replied. He and Lambert only spent six or seven of the hours together, they all did, and the rest was doing your own thing. “It would be nice.” Jaskier looked so happy at that, a grin that lit his eyes. They had that bright shine that omega eyes got when they were truly happy. Geralt had done that for him, and it made every alpha instinct in him want to purr. If Jaskier wasn’t so muted, what would he smell like right now?

“You know any dirty poetry, my little protege slut?” Lambert asked. “I love dirty poetry.”

“Well, no, that would be wrong,” Jaskier replied, “and what did you call me?”

“My protege slut, going to help you train up, educate you for your goal of being as large a slut as I am.”

“I - Geralt?”

“He is the one who has slept with the most of all of us, so if you are wanting that life goal, he really is the best to help you out.”

“Shouldn’t we go face the trap by the guards, that seems like a great idea.”

Lambert grinned. “You totally know dirty poetry and don’t want to say in front of your big strong alpha. I understand, but trust me, he would enjoy it too.” Lambert thumped a hand on Jaskier’s back, and almost planted him into the table. “Save it for the climb up the mountain.”

Geralt thought the blush on Jaskier’s cheek was adorable. “We should give them another hour, just to make sure the trap is really set. Gwent?” Lambert grunted in agreement, and Jaskier looked intrigued. “You play?”

“A little, I don’t have my deck anymore.”

“We have a bunch of spare cards at the keep, you’ll be able to build there,” Lambert reassured him. “Geralt has been known to accept pay in cards instead of coin.”

“That seems idiotic,” Jaskier looked at Geralt.

“Sometimes people don’t have coin, I’ll let farmers pay what they can,” Geralt ducked his head a bit. He didn’t want Jaskier to get completely the wrong idea though, “I also loot a lot of pirate dens, can find fun stuff on corpses.”

“I am a little scared by how different our definitions of fun might be.” 

Lambert handed his deck over to Jaskier. “I want to see you play him.”

Geralt shrugged and shuffled his cards, a motion his fingers were used to, simple moving about the cards. But Jaskier made a show of it, a one handed cut, waterfall and the sort of things jesters did. He grunted a bit impressed, and that made Jaskier fumble a bit. Geralt focused on his cards. He won handily and looked at Jaskier. He reached out quick as lightning and flipped what was still in his available hand. “Again, and don’t lose on purpose.”

“You might not like it if I win, better to size up your opponent and rob them blind next time,” Jaskier smiled at him and Geralt enjoyed the way Lambert laughed, the two omegas were clearly bonding which was good for harmony in the keep. “Care to put money on it this time? I stole 40 crowns on my way out. Let’s go wild, bet…”

“Eight crowns,” Geralt said. 

“Why eight?” Jaskier looked puzzled. “Is it a lucky number for you?”

“It might become one.” Eight times Jaskier had sex to sully his name and get him mated to Geralt. And the more he saw of the real Jaskier, the more he wanted to know more. Maybe eight would be a lucky number one day.

Geralt won again but it took to the third round and was more luck than anything else. It was close. “Well done, I’ll look forward to playing you in the winter. Bets tend to be your chores, or silly things like bottle corks and pine cones.”

“That sounds fun.”

“We’ve given them enough time,” Lambert said, "and we’ll want the time to make sure we are well over the border before dark falls.”

Geralt had to agree with that, and they put away the cards, collected the horses. They took the road out towards Aedirn, and they didn’t chat. Geralt and Lambert were focused on keeping an eye, and Jaskier was as what was seeming to be usual, lost in his own thoughts. 

“Broken wagon, fuck are you serious?” Lambert snorted. “I’m killing them on principle of they might breed and we cannot allow that much stupid in the world.” He shook his head. “And before I kill them I am going to define irony for them.”

“We need at least one left alive to let the Pankratz’s know what happened,” Geralt said.

“I feel like their corpses will tell the tale,” Lambert countered. “They aren’t even a decent formation, I can see them all,” Lambert was close to whining. “I haven’t killed anything in forever Geralt.” Forever being only a couple of weeks.

“We’ll have plenty of time when we get home, you and I will go on a harpy hunt,” Geralt promised. “Behave.”

“Fine, but I’m fucking with one of them.”

“Shouldn’t you be taking it a bit more seriously?” Jaskier asked. He looked nervous and Geralt cupped his neck, rubbed it a bit, near where his bite mark was almost completely faded now. Jaskier seemed to relax somewhat.

“No, they are children playing soldiers, and we will show them how mistaken they were to do this,” Geralt explain. “You stay back here. Until I say it is safe.” Geralt looked at him. “Promise.”

“Sure, of course. I would never rush head first into danger,” Jaskier’s eyes were huge and sincere. He was clutching where his bag crossed his body. “I can watch the horses,” he promised.

“My thanks, I know Roach is in good hands,” Geralt watched as that straightened Jaskier’s shoulders, like he was determined to do right. Good he would be well occupied, not that they expected this to take long. And Roach would keep Jaskier safe.

Geralt didn’t unsheathe a sword, he doubted he’d even need it for these idiots. He and Lambert walked to the ‘broken’ wagon and Lambert was almost skipping. “You can rob them blind,” Geralt said as an enticement.

“I was going to do that anyways,” Lambert was smiling. It was too sharp and delighted a smile.

“I’ll do your laundry for a week if you play nice.” Lambert hated doing laundry. But his smile didn't change, because he hated them getting fucked over even more. “You keep just one alive and so that he actually stays alive not just is alive when we leave, and I’ll do your laundry for two weeks.”

“Fine,” Lambert agreed. They were almost at the wagon. “Hale and well met, fellow travelers!” 

Geralt grunted a bit because that was a touch much, really. Lambert conversed with the men and agreed the roads around there were a crying shame. One behind the wagon bent down to check the wheel and was clearly going to try to shoot a bolt into their legs or feet. He looked back and Jaskier was there, holding the reins of both horses. He looked terrified. Geralt didn’t like that. “The Pankratz are not paying you enough to die by our hands, and we just want to go home. This is your chance to walk away.”

“Oh will you stop being such a heartfelt alpha, it is so annoying the gentle warrior crap.”

“It balances out your assholeness, Lambert,” Geralt replied. He looked at the man he supposed was their leader. “This is your chance to be able to tell your grandchildren that you faced down a witcher, and lived to sire their parent.”

“I’ll get to do that when you are dead,” the man roared. He pulled out a sword. So it wasn’t theft, it was murder. Geralt blasted aard, and they all went flying. Lambert leapt over the wagon and dealt with the kneeling man with the crossbow. They were decent enough Geralt supposed, but that meant little against a witcher who was at this point very annoyed. All but two were dead in moments. They had thrown down their weapons and were kneeling. 

“You did say only one had to be alive,” Lambert called from where he was looting the wagon and the dead bodies. “I’ll flip a coin.”

“Master Julian, please, I beg you, mercy!” one shouted, almost crying.

“No, do not -” Geralt started to call, but Jaskier was already running over. “Come over,” he finished when Jaskier was next to him.

“Master Julian, we are so sorry,” the man blubbered, and it was a fair attempt. Appeal to the young omega’s tender sensibilities. He supposed he was about to hear about how threatening the parents were, a starving family or something. “We are so sorry we failed you,” the man continued and Lambert was moving over to them ready to say something biting, Geralt was so sure.

“We are so sorry we could no fulfill your rescue plan and free you from the butcher,” the man said. 

Geralt froze. He had really not just said that. He heard a snarl and look over, sure Lambert was now going to kill both of them. It took him a moment to realize the snarl was from Jaskier. Geralt only realized when Jaskier had moved a few steps forward, spit on the kneeling man, and began to kick him.

“Little cub has teeth!” Lambert crowed.

Geralt saw the other soldier reach out and he moved over, and stomped hard on the hand moving towards Jaskier, a sickening crunch under his boot. “No one belonging to the Pankratz ever lifts a hand to the Wolf omega ever again.” His voice was calm, a promise, not a threat.

“It is true, sir alpha, he paid for this to have us rescue him,” the one man insisted.

“No, I didn’t you bastard!” Jaskier yelled, and delivered a kick to the gut that had the man doubling over. “I was grateful that I was being taken away! I would have chosen the cruelest most abusive alpha imaginable over them!”

“And you got it, you got the butcher,” the one with the crushed hand said.

“Yes, Mother and Father were very clear with what they thought would happen, what they wanted me to be scared of. But I wasn’t, because if he was violent that was honestly preferable to them. I would have never paid for rescue, because I was already rescued.” Jaskier looked at Geralt. “Alpha, you need to say, _I free you from your cloak_ three times and then lick here,” Jaskier gestured to his neck, “And that should make the blocker disappear.”

“I free you from your cloak, I free you from your cloak, I free you from your cloak,” Geralt said and stood behind Jaskier. Lambert had moved forward to protect them, ready to murder. Geralt slowly nuzzled Jaskier’s scent gland and licked at it, and a film seemed to pull away and the second it was a little bit free, Jaskier nudged him away and ripped it from his skin. It took a moment but then Jaskier’s true scent started to reach Geralt’s nose.

The first taste he had of his omega’s scent, it was really fucking pissed off. Anger, righteous wrath just pouring off him, smelling like the coast all salt and sun on water flowers, bitter and sweet all at once.

Geralt was intoxicated in an instant, hard in his armor in the next. 

He couldn’t understand why the alpha solider was flinching like that, probably because an omega smelling that angry set an alpha’s fight instincts off. It was for him, but he wasn’t, because he really wanted to see what Jaskier was about to do. 

“Fuck you, for lying like that,” Jaskier snarled. “I never wanted to be taken away from him, ever. Because he was getting me the fuck out of that shitty land, and away from worse parents. How dare you try to poison me to him? I never did anything wrong. Never. Fuck you.” Jaskier kicked the alpha who growled and snapped his teeth, tried to release a dominant scent to get Jaskier to back down. 

Geralt saw his knees tremble before he locked them. “I’ve been smelling a witcher alpha for days and he’s been trying to hold his scent back and it still overwhelms that bullshit you are doing.” Jaskier then smiled. “You think he’s a monster, an animal, don’t you? Do you know that in animals, the alpha bends to the omega’s will. I have spent the last several days on my hands and knees letting him fuck me blind. So much so, that he is actually mine to command, so enthralled and ensnared in my wiley evil seductive omega ways.”

Geralt met Lambert’s eyes and it was clear his fellow wolf was having the most fun he had had in years.

“I barely have to think it and my alpha will do whatever I want. For example if I told him to slap the scent off you, he would -” Jaskier turned and looked at Geralt and his disdain and calm demeanor fell when the soldiers couldn’t see it. Help? His face seemed to say. Geralt just shrugged went over and backhanded the alpha hard enough to dislocate his jaw. “Holy shit,” Jaskier muttered before he could stop himself. He cleared his throat. “And if I wanted your throats slit, and to bathe in your blood, well.” Jaskier crouched down. “Think you feel like telling the truth now?”

“Your Mother paid us extra to say that if the chance arose,” the soldier said, and now his tears were real.

Geralt saw Jaskier’s shoulders fall a bit. “Lambert tie them up.”

“Aww, I wanna kill one, you promised.” He really did, he was just getting a little more fun in. Geralt just gave him a look, and he didn’t say anything when Lambert knocked them out. He lead Jaskier back to the horses and he put Jaskier up on Roach, because the man was looking a little dazed. He set out, Lambert caught up a few minutes later. Soon they crossed the border, and they pushed just a bit more before they found a spot by a stream to camp for the night. Geralt helped Jaskier down and put him on a fallen tree. He took care of the animals, Lambert started a fire and set a couple snares. They settled on the log, Geralt on one side, Lambert on the other.

“I didn’t believe them,” Geralt told Jaskier.

“After I had them tell the truth?”

“No, I didn’t believe them the instant they opened their mouths,” Geralt said. 

“We can smell a lie, especially a wallop like that one, little cub,” Lambert explained. He threw an arm over Jaskier’s shoulder. “You were amazing! Where did all that come from?”

Geralt would have known it was a lie without being able to smell it, because no man who warned them like he did would have engineered the plot. And he wouldn’t have believed it, because if he was honest with himself he didn’t want to believe. He wanted to pretend that Jaskier was happy or at least didn’t loathe being bound to the wolves - to him.

“Boiling point,” was all Jaskier said. He then went very still. “Why are you two so close?”

“We can move,” Geralt said.

“No, I don’t want you to, no one ever touches me,” he blurted out. 

“Touch,” Lambert said and poked a finger against Jaskier’s jaw. “Touch,” his shoulder. “Touch,” his nose. “No electric shock, you aren’t poison or anything that I can smell.”

“I don’t smell right.”

“You don’t smell right?” Lambert looked around him to Geralt, “What is right?”

Geralt didn’t know either. “You smell right to me. Like anger and mead. It is comforting.”

“Lambert really doesn’t repulse you with how aggressive his scent is?” 

Geralt shook his head. “He just smells like Lambert. You smell like the coast. Wild and salty, and sweet. How is that wrong?”

“It reminded my parents that Mother had an affair and I may or may not be my father’s son.”

“Oh, so them hating you is because of them.”

“To be fair, it is also because of me, I’m a problem,” Jaskier said.

He was, because he smelled untamed and lush and like there were secrets that he could dive in and discover. Geralt reached up and swooped Jaskier’s hair off his forehead. “Touch,” he said quietly. “I’m going to check the snares.” 

He could hear Lambert start explaining to Jaskier the best way to kick someone. There were a couple rabbits and Geralt prepped them for the fire. They ate, and he watched the fire highlight and shadow Jaskier’s features. “Sing,” Geralt said.

“I’m sorry?”

“You said you wanted to be a bard, you studied the liberal arts, you must have a song or two in you.”

“Perhaps a dirty one?” Lambert wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt liked the way that it made Jaskier laugh.

“I’m really not very good.”

“That you talking, or your parents?”

“A few fellow students and professors as well. Because I dare to like common folk songs, and am not living up to my potential.”

“Thank fuck we rescued you little cub,” Lambert shook his head. “You were surrounded by so much stupid.”

“I really was. Common songs are fun!” Jaskier stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers. He cleared his throat and began to sing a song they both recognized. Just a silly thing about a farmer’s daughter and all the men she invited into the hay loft. He had a charming voice, and his scent was so fucking happy as he sang. They both applauded and he grew even happier. 

Later that night, Jaskier stretched out on a bedroll, and looked at him. Geralt smiled a bit, not wanting to scare him by showing too many teeth. “Yes?”

“Am I allowed to touch you?”

“Yes,” Geralt said after a moment.

Jaskier reached out and clasped his hand with his own. “Touch,” he said, only he didn’t let go. He fell asleep holding Geralt’s hand, and Geralt didn’t mind.

“Fell in love already, huh?” Lambert whispered. He was leaning against a tree, cleaning some daggers.

“No, not yet,” Geralt felt Jaskier squeeze his hand, and he squeezed back. “Give it another day or two.”

Lambert laughed at him, and Geralt didn’t mind. His free hand traced along Jaskier’s jaw. “Touch,” he said. 

“I am so moving a few more doors away when we get home,” Lambert declared. “You two are gonna be obnoxious.”

Geralt doubted that Jaskier would want that. But Geralt was starting to wish he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a couple deadlines, so next update will be a week.


	7. Chapter 7

Geralt had known the last leg of the journey would be hard, but he didn’t realize just how hard. Lambert was restless, so close to the keep, to his territory that he wanted to be home in his space. And if it was just the two of them, they’d push on and be home tonight, because Geralt was itchy for it too, for his other wolves. But Jaskier was clearly fading fast and couldn’t do more. He was trying to insist he could, but he had fallen twice as he walked -- the encroaching dark and almost vertical climb too much for him.

“We stop for the night,” Geralt said firmly, because they had reached the last truly viable camping spot on the way home. His instincts were screaming for home, but it was his job to put those aside and care for Jaskier. 

“I can go more,” Jaskier protested as he stumbled again. Geralt caught him before he could hit the dirt. “I can,” he insisted, his scent stubborn, even as his body was failing him.

“He can go more,” Lambert nodded in agreement. His fingers were tapping against his thigh. “We can make it home.”

“No we can’t,” Geralt gestured at Jaskier. Tried to will some empathy into Lambert.

“Put him on Roach, tie him to the horse and we-”

“Lambert,” Geralt snarled, and got in his brother’s face. “He is human and not used to this. The last stretch of the path is difficult even for us in the dark! We are camping.”

“We are doing fuck all,” Lambert snarled back, pressed so that his nose was almost brushing Geralt’s. “You two do what you like.” 

Geralt watched Lambert grab his bags and continue on down the path. He was worried and had to let it go, because Lambert could handle whatever he would come across and Jaskier couldn’t.

“I really am fine,” Jaskier was swaying a bit, exhaustion weighing him down. 

Geralt shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” He lead Jaskier and the two horses to the small clearing. There was a fire pit there, and he gathered wood, set it aflame. Temperatures were dropping a lot, but they were headed home early enough that the ground wasn’t completely frozen yet, there was some snow, but the path not covered. But still he lay the bedrolls next to each other. “You’ll need my body heat tonight,” Geralt explained.

“You plan to fuck me here, when I feel like shit and we haven’t bathed in days?” Jaskier was bristled all up, like an angry cat. “Really? Now?”

“No,” Geralt shook his head. “Literally body heat, the ground will be cold, leech your heat as you sleep. I can counter that.” Geralt looked at the fire. “I…we don’t have to do that. Ever.”

“I figured what with everything, that is why I was confused. But it is the first night he hasn’t been here so…” Jaskier drew out the so, made it a six syllable word. “So, rabbit for dinner?” Clearly trying to recover from the fumbled conversation.

“It is too late to hunt,” Geralt had some jerky left and gave it to Jaskier, who gnawed on it a bit, before passing it back too tired to even eat. “There will be a good meal tomorrow,” he promised. Jaskier was looking so tired, and all of Geralt’s instincts were to protect. But he wasn’t sure how much he could do. The lack of an annoying Lambert buffer made him hesitant. “Touch?” he offered and blinked when he had Jaskier in his lap, the omega snuggled in like he was somehow trying to fit himself into Geralt’s rib cage. He hadn’t thought this through. He had expected to give the man a shoulder pat or something. But it had been a hard hike that day, harder than Jaskier probably had had to do before after hard travel in general. They were close to the end but not quite there, and that would be wearing enough on anyone, let alone this young man. He needed comfort.

Geralt very cautiously wrapped his arms around Jaskier. Jaskier then seemed to just melt against him. “You like hugs.” There was a nod against his chest. He took a chance and squeezed. When Jaskier squeaked, he immediately let go. “My apologies. I don’t know how to -”

“It was so tight,” Jaskier smelled happy. He still smelled a bit angry, that seemed like Lambert just to be a part of his base scent, but there was happy over top it. “You hug tight.”

“Yes?”

“More,” Jaskier demanded. Geralt was hesitant, he didn’t want to hurt Jaskier again. “Again, or I stab you,” Jaskier’s happy scent was fading, the anger rising. “Lambert can stab you for fussing, I can stab you for not fussing.”

“You couldn’t stab me,” Geralt had to laugh at the idea a bit. There was an adorable little snarl and Jaskier’s scent was all chuffed up. He thought there would be a hit or even a bite, but then the man just…seemed to hug him harder. 

“Touch,” Jaskier demanded and Geralt’s arms wrapped around him, held close. “Touch,” he demanded again.

Geralt had no idea what he was asking for. “I am touching you,” Geralt pointed out.

“Not like you touch him.” Jaskier’s nose pressed against his throat. “I get that some of those are his, but…could I have a bit?”

Geralt tried to think of ways that he had touched Lambert. He honestly didn’t think about it, it was Lambert — they touched how they had for decades. There were punches, and stabbings. Hands on necks, foreheads, nuzzles. Geralt wanted to tread carefully, because the last few days of travel, Jaskier had told them so much, both in words and in the silence that hung there in between the words. In Kerack he had been touched starved, made all the worse because at university there had been friends, casual touches, and intimate ones. Not that Jaskier had gone into detail about those three people, but he had spoken of late nights all piled together and reading poetry. Geralt was so lost in how to do this, that it took a moment for his to notice that the anger was fading in Jaskier’s scent and being filled in with sadness.

He eased Jaskier back a bit and ignored the grumble the omega gave. Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face. He then carefully pressed his forehead to Jaskier’s. “Touch,” he whispered. His hands dropped to Jaskier’s waist. Geralt closed his eyes, breathed in. He realized that Jaskier was matching his breathing to Geralt’s. They sat there, close, the fire warming their skin, the cold ground chilling it. They felt nothing but the bit of skin that was touching. 

“Oh shit, you are having a moment,” Geralt heard and smiled a bit. He had known Lambert would be back. He eased away from Jaskier, opened his eyes and saw Jaskier staring at him.

“He came back.”

“Of course he did, your omega would be a fool to strop away from you like that.”

Geralt frowned at him. “You keep saying it like that, is it a Lettenhove thing?” He waited but Jaskier wasn’t answering and was sliding away. Geralt shivered, his body not liking that the cool that touched where the warmth of Jaskier had been. He glared at Lambert who just smiled evilly back. “I thought you were headed home?”

“I was,” Lambert tossed a bed roll down and flopped on it. “But see I am a good and truly compassionate man, and it would have been a son of a bitch move to make you do the last bit with the cub and pack horse.”

“You are a son of a bitch,” Geralt had to point out.

“True, but not quite that much of one,” Lambert smiled at Jaskier. “So, I interrupt anything fun?”

“What?” Jaskier’s flush was obvious even in the dark shadows. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t suppose to have intentions of a nature that could upset the hierarchy of the relationships as they are already established.”

“What the fuck?” Lambert snorted. “That was a whole lot of nothing. Come here, cub,” Lambert held open an arm. “I’m a better cuddle than him any day.”

“It would be wrong, wouldn’t it?” Jaskier looked at Geralt, worried. “I am not sure given the particular para social, political and sexual -”

“Shut up with all that weird noble boy talk,” Lambert groaned. “You’ve ended up plastered against me the last three nights, and I’ve almost killed you all three times, so will you just start off there so it doesn’t surprise me?”

“I have not!”

“You have,” Geralt said. It had been adorable the way that Jaskier had rolled in his sleep and sort of just attached himself to Lambert. “You’ve slept in between us for warmth and protection, and when I’ve woken up, you’ve been attached to Lambert like a…is barnacle a good comparison?”

“I think so,” Lambert agreed. “Or moss on a tree.” 

Jaskier was just staring between them. “I haven’t,” he tried to insist. “Have I? I’ve woken up alone.”

“Yeah, because I get up to piss, we’ve been letting you sleep as late as dare.” Lambert frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“It is unseemly. It is so -”

Geralt cleared his throat because Jaskier was about to say something that would go poorly, but he watched as Lambert began to shut himself off, scented how flat he went. He realized, fuck he properly realized, how it must have felt for Lambert to have another omega to cuddle, one that was family. How there had once been a handful of them, always touching, nuzzling, cuddled into piles in between training. And then there was just him. Their last link. And Lambert had begun to think maybe he wasn’t anymore, and Jaskier was taking that away. He didn’t even realize that was what he was doing, but if Lambert shut down, it would be years before he opened up again.

Geralt growled low and deep, let his scent be commanding for a moment. “Lambert, to me.” 

“Fuck off,” Lambert growled back.

“I’m not letting you do this.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Not again,” Geralt pushed his scent a bit more. Yes, he knew it was an asshole move, but he was dealing with an asshole. And he couldn’t bear it to go back to when they had all been hurting and not let each near. “To me,” he snapped. He was almost knocked over when Jaskier collapsed against him. “Oh, shit,” he realized that the dominant alpha scent, that it would have been hitting him too.

“I’m to me,” Jaskier slurred a bit. “’Lo, I am good. Not like him.”

“Fuck, Lambert, what do I do?”

Lambert had hurried over. “What the shit?”

“I don’t know,” Geralt was ready to panic. “I just went that hard because it would piss you off enough to bring you over and hit me, and then I would have hugged you. I forgot he was human.” And the scent he had been projecting was likely stronger than any alpha before Geralt had done around Jaskier. “Jaskier?”

“I am to me,” Jaskier repeated. 

“Yes, you are,” Geralt agreed.

“I’m good.”

Geralt nodded and Jaskier pouted, the most limpid eyes he had ever seen. “You are good,” Geralt agreed. He felt Lambert start to ease away and he grabbed his armor. “No, you stay,” he snapped.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m staying, because I am good,” Jaskier pressed against him. “I can be good.”

Geralt was terrified, because he had accidentally sent Jaskier all the way down into full omega submission. He had to tread very carefully or the man could be incredibly hurt. He could not fuck this up. And he froze didn’t know what to say.

“You are very good,” Lambert said, and kicked Geralt hard in the side. Apparently saying it once hadn’t been enough.

“So good,” Geralt agreed. He gently touched Jaskier’s hair. “Thank you for coming when I commanded.” Jaskier beamed at him, and his eyes were shining in the dark. “I won’t, I won’t do this a lot,” Geralt promised. “But do you think you could answer a question for me?”

“Yes, any question at all.”

“Geralt if you abuse this, I’ll gut you,” Lambert warned him. “You be fucking careful.”

“I will,” Geralt swore. “You got upset when you found out you had been cuddling Lambert. Is it something that really bothers you, or is it something that you’ve been told should bother you?”

“That one!” Jaskier nodded so hard that Geralt was worried it was jostling his brain. He smoothed that soft hair to still him. “Noble omegas don’t cuddle. That is for people who sleep in barns and filth.”

“Did you omega cuddle at Oxenfurt?” Geralt asked, and there was a nod. “And did it make you happy?”

“Touch,” Jaskier said like it explained it all, and Geralt supposed it did. He looked up at Lambert. “It is bad if I like cuddling you?”

“Why?” Lambert asked and crouched down. “Why would it be bad, little cub?”

“Because the spouse and the mistress are supposed to hate each other,” Jaskier was so solemn. “I am so supposed to hate you. Can’t cuddle what you are supposed to hate.”

“Do you hate me?” Lambert asked quietly. “Oh fuck,” he said as Jaskier flung himself over and Lambert held him. “Guess not?”

“You are teaching me to stab things! And so many swear words. You are going to be my best friend. I don’t want to hate you!”

“Then don’t hate him,” Geralt said. “Cuddle as much as you want and wait…did you just fucking call Lambert my mistress?” Geralt honestly thought he felt something pop in his brain with that. 

“I did?” Jaskier blinked. “No, I know he isn’t your mistress. I know you aren’t a mistress! You aren’t wearing the shitty shiny jewelry that mistresses do.” Jaskier smiled proudly. “You two are battle blood. I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Lambert looked over to him, and Geralt shook his head confused.

“Battle blood. I read about it in a book. Old timey thing, because you are old. It is a promise to protect and shield and love between warriors who couldn’t wed.” Jaskier giggled. “It means you have sex and love each other and I should hate that because he is my husband, but the way you two bicker is adorable.”

“Little cub, do you think Geralt and I are?” Lambert made an obscene gesture. 

“Waving fists in the air? No, I think you are in love and fucking,” Jaskier said. “But we can be friends right? I don’t want to take away your battle blood,” Jaskier sounded so painfully earnest. “I just want hugs, that’s all. He doesn’t get them yet, which is weird because he hugs you, but that is all I want, I swear.”

“Just scared to hurt you, Jaskier.” Geralt held out his arms, and Jaskier snuggled in again and Geralt hugged carefully. “I don’t want you to talk anymore tonight while you are still loopy on my scent. It was already unfair what we learned from you in this state.”

“I don’t mind,” Jaskier promised.

“You might in the morning when you aren’t so down, and I will owe you many apologies.” Geralt smiled down at him. “Do you want to cuddle Lambert?”

“I do.”

“Lambert?” Geralt could see him hesitating. “He’s fighting the conditioning his parents tried to impose on him. You can fight your instincts to be a thorn bush with no flowers.”

“Poetic.” Lambert moved his bedroll closer and lay down. He opened his arm again and Jaskier dove in. Geralt lay next to them and Jaskier was almost completely protected from the wind that picked up. “Little cub, you are going to have to let go about what you were taught about how to behave, your expectations of who we are. You keep thinking you should hurt.”

“That’s how this all works?” Jaskier said, so certain of that.

“No,” Geralt whispered. “I promise, you aren’t going to hurt anymore.”

“That would be lovely,” Jaskier yawned. “Head is swimmy. I sleep now. I was happy when they said they were throwing me to the wolves, you know. Witchers slay monsters protect people. Hoped that would be you too. And it was.”

Once he was fully asleep Geralt looked at Lambert. “Battle blood? What the fuck?”

“How the fuck should I know? Eskel will,” Lambert was certain. “I liked how he reached for me in the night.”

“I know.”

Lambert gave a nod. “I want to be home. Figure all this out.”

“So do I,” Geralt agreed. “Sorry about the scent dominating you.”

Lambert snorted. “Like it worked on me.”

Geralt growled a bit. “Oh it worked, you just were stubborn enough to fight it.” Lambert lifted an arm up to give a different obscene gesture and Jaskier grumbled in his sleep and Lambert held him tight. “He called you my mistress.”

“You really need to buy me shiny shitty jewelry, Geralt. I’d look fabulous in bracelets.”

“Shut up,” Geralt replied, “Tomorrow will be hard the last bit of path. Get some rest.”

“Oh earrings. We’ll pierce my ears this winter.”

“Goodnight, Lambert.”

“Met a whore once her belly button was pierced, would you buy me shiny jewelry for that?”

“You do remember we don’t fuck right?” 

“Anklets, buy me anklets.”

Geralt rolled over and pressed his back to Jaskier’s. Keeping him safe, keep him completely touched.


	8. Chapter 8

They were almost home, Geralt swore he could smell it. He could smell the stone of it, the fires waiting for them. He could smell Lambert’s eagerness, the horses’s exhaustion. And Jaskier’s confusion that shifted to anger and back to confusion. He also hadn’t said a word to either of them.

“I need a rest,” Jaskier admitted after a few hours. So there were four words. “Lambert, you can go on ahead. I can feel how eager you are.”

“No, I don’t mind…” Lambert began and then looked at Jaskier, “Ah you want to yell at Geralt about the getting alpha scent drunk in privacy before you are introduced to the keep. I can understand that. His left ankle was shattered once, technically we heal pretty fine, but it is a slightly weaker point on him. He is also super susceptible to omega’s crying. Not like huge sob fests, but just sort of let the tears hang in your eyes, look like you are trying to -”

“Thank you, Lambert, we’ll see you at home in a bit,” Geralt glared at him. They would be talking about that later, especially when he remembered seven or so years ago when Lambert had almost cried and Geralt gave him the daggers he had spent all winter crafting. He sat down along the mountain edge after grabbing his water skin from Roach’s saddle bags. Lambert was taking ahead the pack horse, and he drank, waited. “He should be far enough away that he cannot hear us.” He looked over and Jaskier was pale. “Are you cold?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jaskier didn’t shout, it was more of a hiss whisper, and he was smelling scared.

“Sitting? You could sit with me.” Geralt held up the water skin. 

“One wrong move and you fall off a fucking mountain!” 

Geralt looked down, and then back to Jaskier. “I won’t fall.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t like it.” 

Geralt didn’t understand, but fair. He capped the water skin and stood. He moved next to where Jaskier against the mountain side. “Water?”

“You moved.”

“You said you didn’t like it.”

“I don’t understand you at all,” Jaskier took the bag, but didn’t drink. “Last night.” He was quiet. “Are you going to use that to hurt me?”

“What you told us?” Geralt shook his head. “No. I think we need to clear somethings up but -”

“Not what I said, I don’t care what I said, it was all stuff that I would have said more politely when we were at the keep. For example I wouldn’t have called Lambert your mistress. He is going to either be pissed or tease me about it all winter.”

“Because you understand he isn’t my mistress?” Geralt hoped that maybe they could move on from this.

“Of course your battle blood is not your mistress. We are losing the point of this conversation.”

“I am pretty sure that that is an important part of the conversation,” Geralt said, “Because you very much misunderstand our pack.”

“Yes, yes, tell me later,” Jaskier snapped, “Are you planning to put me down like that again, what did you even do? One minute everything was fine, and then it was like I had two bottles of wine.”

“I was trying to get Lambert to listen to me, and sometimes when he starts to shut down, the only way to do so is release the alpha dominant scent and voice. It is a strong enough thing in an average alpha, but add the witcher mutations and it is intense. I’m allowed to do that with him under very specific circumstances and I was so focused on him, that I forgot that you would be hit with it as well. I am sorry for that. And I promise -”

“That’s not a real thing,” Jaskier protested. “It’s alpha bullshit like the giant dicks. Everyone knows that.”

“I’m sorry?” Geralt blinked.

“Geralt, it’s the thirteenth century, those old wives tales don’t hold sway anymore, really. Alpha dominance,” Jaskier laughed a bit. “I just was tired and overly emotional, and you yelling at Lambert just hit me odd. That’s the only explanation.” Geralt watched, fascinated, as Jaskier continued to ramble and tease all clearly in an attempt to make himself believe it. It was impressive acrobatics and a few minutes later he seemed to be there. “Well. There we have it. Dodgy rations, tired, emotional. I guess you like to joke about ‘alpha voice’ being a bit out of touch with modern science debunking such things?”

Geralt flinched a bit, because that was close to calling him stupid. He looked over the cliff’s edge. Of course he was to someone like Jaskier, but still, it hurt. 

“Touch,” Jaskier said quietly and Geralt immediately turned, wanted to help him. 

“What do you need?” Geralt asked, brow furrowed in worry.

Jaskier slowly hugged him. “I’m sorry, that sounded mean.”

“I am out of touch with modern science,” Geralt replied. “I just know what I know, and that is mostly how to kill monsters. Eventually that skill will fail me and I’ll die, or there will be no more monsters and I’ll be useless.”

“You could never be useless,” Jaskier said. He was squeezing tight, but through the armor Geralt could barely feel it. “I’m sorry I made fun of a thing you believe in.”

“Jaskier, the alpha voice is a real thing,” Geralt touched his shoulders. “Why do you think it isn’t a thing?”

“Well, I’ve never seen it, and at Oxenfurt, all my friends had never dealt with it, and the few alphas in our group tried but they mostly just sounded like idiots. It isn’t real.” Jaskier was looking at him. “It’s just a think to keep omegas in line.” But he sounded hesitant. “I was tired, why I reacted like that. Isn’t it?”

“Jaskier, were any of them high alphas?”

“What’s that?” 

Well, shit. That would explain a few things. He wondered if there were so few left on the continent in general that they had faded from memory. And to be fair historically high alphas had been either almost worshiped or killed. “Jaskier, alpha voice is real. And that is what happened to you last night. We have books at the keep, Eskel can explain it better than I could. I was a likely a high alpha before you mix in the mutagens. They just pushed it a little further. Because you weren’t tired, Jaskier, and you know it.”

“I have to have been tired, Geralt, because you cannot have that sort of power of me. I cannot go back to being controlled like they did.” Jaskier stopped hugging him, and began to hug himself. “If you could make me feel drunk at will, why wouldn’t you do that all the time?”

“Because I swore to honour and protect you,” Geralt reminded him.

“Words like those are never meant.”

“I fucking meant them,” Geralt snarled a bit.

“Why?” Jaskier snarled back. “This doesn’t mean anything to you other than security and supplies. Just like it doesn’t mean anything to me other than getting away from them. You have Lambert, and you’ll get sick of me in the winter because everyone always fucking does because I’m too angry and loud and annoying and I’m just hoping you’ll move me to Novigrad and then we’ll just forget all of this.”

Geralt had to walk away. He walked back down just a few steps. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. He knew there would be a lot of conversations that they had to have, and they had to happen today or soon enough, but he didn’t think they would happen like this, now. When he had no back up. No one to guide his words. He closed his eyes and breathed in.

He could smell snow, it would fall soon.

And a wyvern.

Geralt ran back to Jaskier and cast quen, protecting them both from the fire it breathed. As it swung away, Geralt aimed with his cross bow, a few shots, most missed but one didn’t. He breathed a sigh of relief as that was enough to scare the beast away to lick its wounds. “Are you alright?”

“What was that?” Jaskier’s eyes were wide, and he smelled of fear.

Geralt nuzzled his neck, licked at the scent glad to soothe him. “Wyvern,” he said as he nuzzled. “You are safe, won’t let anything hurt you.” He licked again, even grazed teeth a bit. Slowly Jaskier’s scent calmed. “It is fine, you are safe. It was just a baby.”

“That was a baby?” He could feel as Jaskier swallowed. “I…fuck.” Jaskier was hugging him again and the slow Geralt had sensed started to fall. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Did you somehow call the wyvern to attack?”

“No, but. I don’t even know. If Lambert had been here -”

“You have to stop that,” Geralt pulled back a bit. “You have an assumption I do not understand. You think Lambert and I are a thing we are not.”

“Don’t, don’t do that. Please?” Jaskier frowned at him. “Mother and father always kept up that vicious pretense, and I hated watching it. I understand, I do -”

“We are not lovers, or battle blood, he is most certainly not my mistress but he is going to be annoying enough that I am likely dusting off my metalwork skills to make him a fucking anklet for winter solstice now, thank you so much for that one Jaskier. He is my brother, my pack. I don’t love him romantically or passionately. I love him like…” He had no idea how he loved Lambert. “I love him like he is Lambert. Fiercely clever, a pain in the ass, deeply generous, and likely to explode. I love him like I love dancing star bombs most of all bombs.”

“You love him like a bomb.”

Geralt was relieved that Jaskier understood. “Yes. Like dancing star, which is a really underrated bomb. Most like Samum, but really with my shit aim, dancing star is the way to go. I am glad you understand and agree.”

“He doesn’t sleep with you at Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier said slowly.

“Oh well, yes he does sometimes do that,” Geralt nodded. “So does Eskel, and occasionally Vesemir.”

“Wait…do you still pack pile?”

“Yes?” Geralt frowned at him. “Why?”

“No one has done that in decades.”

“Unless you live in a barn right?” He took no pleasure in the flush that grew on Jaskier’s cheek. The snow was falling more. “We need to keep moving. Get you in front of a fire.” Geralt started walking, heartsick at whatever this conversation had been. A fight, a clearing the air, a painful reminder that he was everything that Jaskier would have never chosen. He grasped Roach’s reins. Geralt started on the path for home.

“But you touch Lambert in an intimate manner.”

“We are wolves, Jaskier,” Geralt didn’t look back. “Hell, they lick in each other’s mouths, to make sure each other is fine. We are intimate as you say, because we have implicit trust in each other.”

“You love him.”

“Of course I do.”

“But I have not diminished what you two share by our contract, our marriage.”

Geralt stopped at that. “No, you haven’t. Lambert seems to be very happy to befriend you.”

“And you?” Jaskier stepped close. “Would you be happy to befriend me?”

Geralt breathed in Jaskier’s scent, could taste the tentative hope in it. “I would,” he agreed. He wanted more from the omega, but friendship it seemed was what he was being offered and he would take it. Jaskier’s hand slid into his and they wound their way to the keep. When they turned a corner, Geralt smile a bit at the gasp that Jaskier gave.

In the gentle falling snow and waning light, the keep did look magical, both broken and sturdy. Full of secrets and wonder. “Welcome to Kaer Morhen, my omega. May its walls offer you shelter and comfort.”

“Oh, that was nice.”

“I suppose it was an out of date thing to say, like pack piles, and alpha voice.”

“I…maybe out of date, isn’t so bad? Things always do come back in fashion.”

Geralt guided him into the keep and took Roach to the stables while Jaskier poked about the lower courtyard. They went up and through, Jaskier regularly stopping to look about. He opened the huge doors and the fires were lit in the main hall, he could smell his pack. Geralt couldn’t stop the growl of contentment that rumbled in his chest. “Welcome,” he repeated.

“It is like from a story where a castle is hidden for centuries!” Jaskier looked intrigued. “Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Explore? Just this room for right now?”

Geralt shrugged, “It is your home now, Jaskier.” He dropped the saddlebags to take up to his room later and went to the large fire. Vesemir was in his chair, a book in his lap. “Lambert make it fine?”

“He is in his rooms and suggested if anyone bother him, they will gain new scars in places they don’t want to deal with scarring.”

Geralt snorted and sat in the other chair. He glanced over when he heard a shout. “Jaskier?”

“These arches! They are ninth century, or look at them. I need to sketch them. Look at that window lead!” He watched Jaskier scurry over to a window that was half intact, half wood from crates. 

“Guess architecture was a part of his education,” Vesemir commented. “Lambert didn’t say much, said you would explain what happened.” There was a raised brow which meant that Geralt would be explaining right then and there. He laid out the bare bones, and Vesemir asked a few questions. Geralt did not mention that Jaskier thought there was a more personal relationship with Lambert. “Well, well, that is interesting. And in spring, it will be even more so when we all go to Lettenhove.”

“Is that wise?”

“No, but neither is their trying to fuck us over. You failed to mention one thing though, pup. Something about having to buy Lambert jewelry?”

Geralt sank into the chair and groaned. “Of course that is the one thing he shared. Jaskier somehow thought Lamber and I were lovers.”

“Nothing so crass, battle blood,” Jaskier said as he came over. “I don’t have witcher hearing, but the acoustics in this hall are incredible.” Jaskier hummed something and it echoed beautifully. “If only I had my lute,” Jaskier sighed. “What’s done is done.”

“Battle blood, like in those romance novels?”

“You read romance novels?” Jaskier looked shocked.

“Course I do, who doesn’t like a little spice in their life?” Vesemir smiled. “Stole a couple from your mother’s collection, though they were a little more detailed than I cared for.”

“You stole my mother’s erotica. I am horrified, and intrigued, which horrifies me even more,” Jaskier said after a minute. 

Geralt just snorted. “You thought Lambert and I were a thing from books.”

“Fiction is based on fact, on ideas that are true in our hearts,” Jaskier replied. He looked to Vesemir. “Do you also swear there is no such relationship between them?”

“I do,” Vesemir answered. “There is much weight of emotion between my pups, but it is not what you thought it to be. I’ll get you some soup, you’ve had a long journey.”

Geralt gestured for Jaskier to take Vesemir’s chair. Vesemir brought them both some food and then disappeared again. Geralt ate, enjoyed the warm fare, the scent and feel of home. Jaskier finished his food and then yawned. 

“I need a nap, is that allowed?”

“This is your home now, Jaskier, whatever you want is allowed.”

“Where do I sleep?”

Geralt took him through the main hall and through a door on the left to the wing they all slept in. He paused beside Lambert’s door. “Fuck off until tomorrow, everything is in the wrong place!” He thumped on the door in acknowledgment. 

“He says that every year we get home from the path. It is mostly that his space doesn’t have his full scent in it. Another door opened and Eskel came out. Geralt hurried over and hugged his brother. “There is so much he doesn’t know,” he whispered against Eskel’s skin. “I’m scared.”

“We’ll set it all to rights,” Eskel promised, and Geralt utterly believed him. He let go. “Jaskier, welcome.”

“Thank you, Eskel.”

“Vesemir and I had a few options for your rooms, here in the wing, but we finally elected to set you up in Geralt’s.”

“You did?” That surprised Geralt. “I thought you’d put him across.”

“Go, see.”

Geralt went into his suite and at first it looked the same. Being alpha he had the largest space, because often at night he needed to roam about. And if the others wanted to cuddle, they always came to this space. The attached room though, that he mostly used as a junk space was different - he could smell it. He went and saw it had been turned into a private space for Jaskier. 

A nice bed had been put in there, a chair and a small bookshelf. A chest for his things, the walls washed, and old tapestries hung. It was a cozy little nest.

“Oh this room is so sweet,” Jaskier crooned. There was a decent size window, with a good view of the mountains, that same view was in Geralt’s room, though he had a full balcony. “Do you mind me here? I am sure that we could move me across the hall like you thought I would be.” Jaskier was already on the bed and rubbing his face on the pillow, scenting it as his. He smelled so happy.

Geralt had worried that he would hate Kaer Morhen, but that wasn’t the case in the least. “No, I am happy to have you near.” That stilled Jaskier on the bed. “You rest, there are always chores that need doing to ready for winter.”

“I can help,” Jaskier immediately started to sit up.

“You can, in the days ahead. This was a lot for you. Rest. There is plenty of time.” 

“I won’t be a burden, like I was on the walk.”

“You weren’t,” Geralt swore. “Sleep well.” He left the rooms and went to the library. Eskel was there, reading. No not reading, waiting for Geralt. Geralt sat next to him and leaned against his brother’s shoulder. “So do you want to know about the part where he thought Lambert was my mistress, or the part where he knows nothing about high alphas and thinks alpha voice is bullshit? Oh, or the part where his parents completely fucked us over?”

“How about you tell me the part that makes you happiest?”

“He smells so damn angry.”

Eskel laughed a bit. “We will figure it all out, wolf, promise.”

“I hope so. I’d like him to be happy here.” Geralt would like Jaskier to be happy with him, but that was asking far too much. He felt Eskel kiss his head. “We need books. He went to school, he’ll believe books. Where do we begin?”

“Tell me everything,” Eskel said and began to hunt for what they would need as Geralt spoke. Geralt wondered how educating Jaskier on exactly who the wolf school was would go. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we of course have our lovely kaer morhen hot springs in this fic, but i decided to have a bit of fun with them. I hope that you will enjoy Heinrich.

“Should we be worried about him?” Lambert was in the corner with his latest project, and Geralt was watching, trying to figure out what he was doing. Occasionally he held something in place, a bit of igni to heat something. Eskel would be better for that, but he was searching the whole keep for any books they had somehow missed that would provide information for Jaskier.

“I think so, but I knocked on his door and was sort of growled at and I walked away.”

“When I growl at you, you storm in and try to fix it,” Lambert opened a jar and sniffed it. “Ew, think this held harpy blood? Or troll piss.” He just sort of shrugged, and swirled water in it. “Clean enough.”

“Clean enough for what?” Geralt was fucking terrified, thinking of the year that Lambert decided to create a new bomb. It was now the most effective in the their arsenal, but the experimentation to get there was…difficult.

“Distillery. Making us vodka.” Lambert smelled as happy as he ever did. “Thinking if I make a ratio of 80% triple distilled vodka and 20% white gull, it should have interesting effects. Or kill us. But you know, worth finding out.”

“Go clean that jar in boiling water!” Geralt shouted. 

“The gull will kill whatever is in here,” Lambert made a face at him. 

Geralt looked at all the apparatus, in slowly awakening horror. “Lambert, are you turning the equipment they used to poison us, to mutate us, into a distillery?”

“Yes.”

“I -” Geralt let go of the pipes he was holding and walked away a bit. He had to pace for a moment and then came back. “What the fuck, Lambert?” He wasn’t in his friend’s face, but he was close. “Why?”

“Because I did a lot of research and using all this meant that I didn’t have to buy anything to make us a small distillery,” Lambert was unrepentant. “Oh am I desecrating history? It should be desecrated! At least making us booze, lets them serve some decent purpose.” Lambert kept moving pieces about, as he consulted diagrams in a drawing. “I cleaned a huge radius around a village out, to get the diagrams on how to make a great still, and realized that I could adapt everything from what we had. Barely costs us a copper. We can keep these monuments to our pain and suffering and everything that has ever gone wrong - or we can make some alcohol this winter.”

Geralt looked at all the apparatus. “Was it all sanitized?” Lambert was paying a great deal of attention to the notes in the journal. “WAS IT ALL SANITIZED?” Jaskier wasn’t around so he put a bit more alpha into his voice. Lambert just threw a small dagger at him, which he was able to easily dodge. “So that would be a no then, hmm?” Another dagger that was easily caught. “Clean it all Lambert, properly.”

“Fuck off.”

“Clean it, so that way you can be sure you are only poisoning us with whatever you create, not anything that dried inside the tubes.”

“Haven’t killed us yet,” Lambert muttered and he was pouting as he slowly took apart the half built structure. Geralt watched him work and it was always a pleasure to see focused Lambert. 

Geralt went over, “Need?” There was a shrug and Lambert tilted his neck. Geralt leaned in and ran his nose along his neck, scented him, until Lambert nudged him away. “I’ll help you,” he offered and began gathering up the pipes to take to clean. “How do we actually sanitize all this?” It was a fair bit of equipment.

“Well…I have an idea,” Lambert was grinning again, and that made Geralt happy but also brought back the terror. “Go get one of the fine nets, one you catch sprites with.”

The terror levels frankly were hitting all time highs, but he had made Lambert stop working after he had already been far into it, so he went to the armory and found the special nets. As he was headed back, he saw Jaskier walking and reading a book at the same time. If he tried that, he’d pass out from the headache, but Jaskier seemed to be just pacing as he read. “Hello,” Geralt said. He waited for a response but there was none. “Jaskier?” Still nothing. 

Geralt wasn’t sure what he had done to offend Jaskier, but if the man was deliberately ignoring Geralt, he would leave him be. He gave a nod and started back through the main hall.

“Geralt! When did you get here?”

Geralt stopped and looked at him. “I walked by you, said hello.” He frowned at Jaskier, there was a scent coming off him that he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t happy, the general anger in his scent was low, it was something stronger but similar to a scent that had been on Eskel when he was lost in books. “Studious, how does studious carry a scent? Is that the right word?”

“Oh. I am sorry, Geralt. When I get focused on my reading, I can thoroughly tune out the world around me, walked off a bridge once because I was reading a poem. Got lucky that I only twisted my ankle.” Jaskier put a finger in the book to mark his place. “On the fourth book that Eskel gave me.”

“It is going well, the reading?”

“It is interesting,” Jaskier said after he thought about it for a moment. “Some of the information is old and has been disproven, but also some of it, makes a lot of sense? I am thoroughly baffled as to what to think. I could use a break if I am honest.”

Geralt thought about it. “Vesemir is working in the kitchens, and Eskel is with the animals.”

“Oh.”

Jaskier’s scent was changing, and Geralt was confused. “Had you meant me?”

“Well, yes? I don’t know Vesemir and Eskel that well yet, I wouldn’t want to be a bother to them.”

“But you want to be a bother to me.”

“You are my husband, so you are the logical one to bother yes.”

“Well, Lambert had an idea. I was going to help him. We might die.” Geralt figured that would be enough to convince Jaskier to go to the kitchens. But then he also got that smile. The I want to do something dangerous and stupid smile. He wondered if it was learned from Lambert or honestly something the man had already had and was now learning to deploy. Geralt wished that he was immune to that smile and told the omegas no. But he wasn't and he didn’t. “Do you want to join us in maybe dying in Lambert’s attempt to make a small distillery to make vodka that will kill us?”

“That does sound like fun, thank you.” 

Geralt sighed. “Come on then. You probably want to leave the book here. No sense it dying along with us.” He waited while Jaskier took it to a table against the wall. “Which one is it?”

“A book Vesemir suggested. More a journal about observations of the mutations effects on status.” Jaskier’s eyes were gleaming as he relayed the knowledge. He was happy when he learned, Geralt realized. “What they did to you was horrific, but what is fascinating is that none of those changes caused drastic changes to designation. It pushed it a bit more, but when the mutations reshaped you, it didn’t reshape that.”

“It did,” Geralt said quietly, unsettled just a bit by Jaskier’s enthusiasm. But to him it was academic, history from long before he was born. Geralt remembered being strapped to the table. “It made us sterile.”

“It did,” Jaskier agreed. “Does that make you sad?”

“It did once, for a time. But I’ve had long enough to adjust to the idea. And children are really fucking terrifying. Have you seen their teeth, they look surprisingly sharp. And they are very loud.” He liked the way that Jaskier laughed. “Are you fine with the idea that I cannot have children?”

“Geralt, I’m nineteen, what the fuck do I know if I want children or not?”

Geralt had to smile a bit at that. Because it was a very fair point. “I suppose you have some time to figure it out.”

“Well, my husband can’t breed me up, so it is mostly a theoretical question. Would Jaskier like children? Doesn’t really matter now.” Jaskier didn’t smell any different as he said that. Accepting that there would be no children. Geralt wondered if that would change over the years. He guessed they’d find out eventually. They reached Lambert who was muttering to himself, making notes in a separate journal. 

“Hey, cub, you finally put the books down?”

“For a bit. Heard you wanted to kill us, I was interested.”

Lambert flipped Geralt off without stopping writing. “I don’t want to kill us, it is just that in true experimentation we all must accept the fact that death could happen.”

“You just like to make shit blow up.”

“I am a visionary.”

“You are a psychopath.”

“I love you too. Now let’s gather everything to sanitize so I don’t ‘poison us’.’ Geralt had the net and took everything that Lambert passed him. Jaskier was handed a few of the jars and Lambert gathered the rest. “To the hot springs.”

“There are hot springs?” Jaskier shouted. “I’ve been here for a week and I am only now being told there are hot springs?”

That anger scent was rising from Jaskier again, and it was still incredibly appealing to Geralt. Lambert was giving him a look, which meant he certainly could smell that it was appealing to Geralt, no matter how Geralt was trying to control it. Jaskier was still ranting as they walked about the measly cloth wipe downs he had been doing with water from the well that Geralt had been leaving outside his door every day.

“They aren’t quite what you think,” Geralt explained. He kicked open the door and they were outside. They went around a corner and then another before they reached the door. It was enchanted and Geralt spoke the words, watched the door melted away. “Don’t come here without one of us,” he warned Jaskier.

“Why?” Jaskier asked, then screamed as a branch slithered around his shoulders. “Fuck!”

“Heinrich, behave, he is one of us now,” Lambert smacked the branch and it almost whined as it went back to the wall. “Be nice to the cub.” There was nothing and he growled a bit. “Heinrich, behave or I won’t bring you down that food you like.”

The flowers unfurled and lit the path to the pools. 

“Thank you, Heinrich,” Geralt said politely and the flowers brightened. “It is technically a monster, but it was here even before the keep, its roots are integral to the water flow in the pools, the cleansing minerals in them. But it can be a bit grumpy.”

“Sure, grumpy plant with glowing flowers, totally read about that in a book once.”

“You did? It is a rare species, probably only about a dozen left on the continent,” Geralt said. “Every few years on the path we try to hunt one down, bring some clipping to graft on, help Heinrich stay healthy.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.” Geralt kept walking until they were at the pools. “The plant was one of the reasons you shouldn't come down here alone. There are a couple others.”

“Such as?”

“Floors are often slick. Vesemir knew a man, came down alone, slipped cracked his head and died,” Lambert explained. “Standard safety plan. No one in the water alone.”

“That makes sense,” Jaskier agreed easily. “Like the ocean, you should never dive in alone.” He was peering at the three different pools, “What are the other reasons?”

“The pools aren’t stable,” Geralt explained. “Enough magic was add to the water, altered it. Part of what fed Heinrich into being what it is now. One pool is always poison, and almost every time you come in here, it will be different.”

“You are aware how insane that sounds? I can buy hot springs under the magical keep. I can even work with sort of sentient and evil plant that is a bit of a guardian. But the water just deciding to be poison or not? Bullshit.”

“Near as we can tell the three pools are interconnected in underneath channels, seeping through the soil and rock walls,” Lambert said. “It has been studied for centuries. We know fresh water comes in that pools first, then the middle, and then the third. Where it must filter out somewhere but no one has found out where or how. The water cycles through the three pools. Someone created a magical filtration, but the power got wonky round about when the purge happened. It just will decide at random which pool needs cleaning and the water becomes toxic as it cleans itself. The magic can sense people enough that a pool won’t change when someone is in it, but it moves about. Eskel has been studying it for decades, trying to fix it. Can’t.”

“How do you know?” Jaskier was clearly trying to study the pools. He was so focused on the mechanics of the water system, he hadn't paid attention to the words _the purge_. “They all look the same.”

“We can sense the magic at work,” Geralt explained. He moved by each pool and when he was at the one on the far end, his medallion warmed against his skin. “This one is the toxic one today.”

“Oh.” Jaskier was clearly thinking. “Heinrich, may I have three leaves please?” A branch wrapped itself around his ankle and he plucked three leaves. “Thank you.” One was tossed in each pool, and they watched as the one in the pool by where Geralt stood shriveled black. “Easy enough. But water safety is important so I won’t come down alone. Can I go into one of the other pools? Is there soap?”

Geralt gestured to the chest along the wall. He stared at the leaves. Decades and none of them had ever done such a human thing. “Hmm,” was all he said. He then also connected a few other points. “Fuck, Lambert, really?”

“It is a good idea!” Lambert protested, “You wanted it all sterilized. The water currently toxic - it will clean these to hell and back. That's what that toxicity does, clean all dirt and out of place matter. Put them in the net, drop the net in, count of five anything bad in them will be clean.”

"Wouldn't it just eat the metal and glass?" Geralt countered.

"Metal is ore in minerals found in the pool, glass is just sand. Should be fine, they are refined but natural to the pools when you think about it."

“It sounds reasonable to me,” Jaskier called. He was pawing through the chest, sniffing various bars and vials until he found one he liked. “There we go.” He began to strip down and approached the other far

pool. “What temperature are they?”

“Warm to hot, never scalding. Except the toxic one.” Geralt lay out the net. “If I die, Eskel and Vesemir will look after you.”

“We aren’t going to die,” Lambert put everything in the net. He also had some rope and wove it through the net. “Me at one end, you at the other. Rope, lift, dip, lift, move to the side, then have a nice bath. Easy.”

It was a fairly sound plan. They got into place and it was heavy but not difficult and they dipped the bundle into the toxic pool. The lifted but didn’t account for the fact that all those tubes, vials, glassware would fill with water, making it much heavier to lift. They were struggling even with their strength. “Lambert,” Geralt growled.

“Trust me!”

“What? Fuck no!” Geralt shouted.

“Cast quen, now,” Lambert said and Geralt didn’t think just responded. He protected himself and watched as Lambert cast aard down and out to the water. It shot the whole bundle up and the toxic water would have hurt Geralt if quen hadn’t been cast. The bundle flipped over his head and went into the middle pool. “There we go! Let that sit in there a bit, all the toxic water seep out, and we will be good to go.”

Quen fell and Geralt glanced over his shoulder. Jaskier was in the furthest away pool and was happily humming as he scrubbed down. “You could have harmed, Jaskier, Lambert.” Geralt’s voice was low, and carried both a threat and a promise. “I am very disappointed in you.” He could smell the shock and sadness on Lambert at that, before he masked it with anger. Nothing hurt Lambert more than words like those, and that is why they seldom used them. He moved around the pool and to where Lambert was standing. “I understand why you are the way you are, and I fucking accept it every day, but this?”

“I calculated it carefully,” Lambert growled back. “You know I can figure out that math better than anyone. Fast. Between the angle that I cast aard, and the space created by your quen, I knew that zero splash would reach the third pool. This is what I do, Geralt.”

“You don’t get to do that stuff if it would hurt my mate,” Geralt was relentless.

“Do you think I’d fucking hurt the first omega who has felt like pack since -” Lambert growled so that he wouldn’t cry and Geralt stepped back. “I wouldn’t hurt your mate, alpha, because I could never hurt our cub.”

“Anyone care what I think?” Jaskier called out.

Geralt turned and looked at Jaskier. He was lounging against the spring wall, wet, eyes gleaming in the low light of the luminescent flowers. “Jaskier,” Geralt began.

“I’m fine. I was safe. And it was fascinating to watch. It taught me a lot about you, more even than what I learned on the road. Now get in the water, it feels fantastic.”

Lambert was stripped down and in the water in moments. Geralt was slower and he saw that Jaskier was watching him. He didn’t bother hiding his body, let Jaskier watch as he stripped naked and then slid into the pool. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” Lambert said to Jaskier and then was over and hugging him, scenting his neck. 

“Wait wait wait, what are you doing?”

“Apologizing?” Lambert moved back. “What’s wrong. Shit, sorry. You are like me. Yeah. That is my fault. Touch?” 

Geralt watched them a fond smile on his face. He was so happy Lambert was bonding to the other omega, that Jaskier would have a friend on the mountain.

“You were scenting me. Geralt is right there,” Jaskier was looking at Geralt. “Sorry, alpha for our -” Jaskier was clearly trying to figure out the right word.

“Pack behaviour?” Geralt asked. “Why would you apologize for that?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Not that far in your reading?” Lambert asked and Jaskier shook his head no. “You saw Geralt scenting me, and thought it was romantic.”

“Because scenting is romantic,” Jaskier said. “Pretty seriously sexual.”

Geralt touched his neck on the left side. “On this side, yes.” He then touched his right. “This is for pack, for comfort, and affection, and whatever you want it to be, as long as it isn’t sexual.” He held out a hand and Lambert swam over. “This is what you saw us doing.” He nuzzled the right side of Lambert’s neck, scent him, let it apologize for him. That Lambert didn’t punch him, suggested that he accepted the apology. He breathed in the water, Lambert’s bitter mead scent, could catch a bit of Jaskier in there as well. He nuzzled Lambert once more and then let go. “It is, I suppose, one of those old fashioned things we do.”

“So I could do that to Lambert, to any of you on that side, just to show that I am happy or like you, or to comfort, and you wouldn’t be upset?”

“Why would I be upset about pack affection and comfort? Take your time, see if it is something that you would be - and you are already scenting Lambert.” He watched as Jaskier yanked Lambert close, said touch and had his nose almost immediately buried against Lambert’s neck. Lambert was still for a moment, his flight or fight kicked in hard at not having more warning that he was going to be held close. But then he melted into Jaskier’s embrace. Geralt watched Lambert tilt his head, so that Jaskier could scent him more. Lambert’s eyes were shining brighter than Geralt had seen in a very long time. Geralt leaned opposite and watched the two omegas scent each other, and then start a ruckus as they splashed each other. Geralt vaulted himself out of the pool and into the middle one to gather Lambert’s apparatus for him. He lifted it all out and leaned against the wall to drip dry a bit and watched them; Heinrich’s vines slowly moving to encase him, suck all the moisture out of his body. 

“I wouldn’t,” Geralt said and cast axii and the plant settled down. The two tired and pulled themselves out of the pool. The shook off the water, none of them thinking to bring towels down for this particular trip. They all dressed, clothes a bit uncomfortable on wet skin but the air outside would be worse. They gathered everything dropped it off in the hall, before they headed to their rooms to properly dry off and change. 

Geralt watched Jaskier go to his room and fished through his chest for clean clothes. His shirt functioned well enough as a drying cloth. He wasn’t dressed yet when Jaskier’s door opened. Geralt held his shirt in front of his cock. “Jaskier, is there a problem?”

Jaskier didn’t say anything just came over to him. “Can I?” He asked when there was barely a breath of space between them.

“Always,” Geralt said, no clue to what he was agreeing to, but he didn’t care, not when Jaskier’s eyes were shining so blue and he smelled so happy. Geralt was almost frozen as Jaskier’s nose pressed against the right side of his neck. As Jaskier scented him like pack. Geralt’s eyes closed and he swayed a bit. Jaskier stepped away and Geralt heard the outer door open and close. He opened his eyes, and touched his neck where Jaskier’s nose had been. 

His hands shook as he dressed. He really hoped Lambert was able to make that vodka quickly.


	10. Chapter 10

“Do we really need this wall?” Geralt asked as he braced the scaffolding a bit. It was looking dangerous, but they were so close to done that he and Eskel decided to just finish the job rather than fix the scaffold and then fix the mortar. Eskel was the heavier of the two of them, but he could also lay stone in at almost twice the pace of Geralt so they decided Geralt would keep him from dying. He grunted. “Say when you are shifting you weight!” There had been an ominous creak. “Seriously, do we need this wall?”

“Yes,” Eskel grunted back, focused on the task. “A draft here, causes -”

“Just work,” Geralt growled low and deep. He knew there was an explanation, they wouldn’t be fixing this if there wasn’t, but he was reaching his point of not caring. It had been repairs week which was always a fucking nightmare, but at least he wasn’t working on the bridge like Lambert and Vesemir. They had warned Jaskier they wouldn’t be around much this week, shoring up the big jobs before the true snow came, and he had said he was fine. He had gone down to the springs a couple times with them when they went to get all the grime off, and they had been tired enough, Heinrich had gotten a good grab of Jaskier dangled him upside down for a bit before they could stop it.

Jaskier had giggled the whole time.

His omega was insane, potentially.

“Left,” Eskel called and they moved in tandem, neither breathing when there were a few more creaks. “Three more stones,” Eskel whispered and Geralt could hear him working. Then all he heard was the crack of wood. 

“Eskel!” Geralt moved braced the cracked support. He was holding up so much, and it was straining his muscles. He remembered a story about the early days of the world, a man who held everything up. He had in the end failed, because who could hold a world up? But he only had to hold some wood and his brother - Geralt wouldn’t fail. He cursed and screamed, as his muscles twitched and he heard running, a jump.

“Down,” Eskel called.

Geralt knew if he let go the wood would just collapse on him, cause a fair bit of damage. He cast aard, trying like how Lambert had at the pipes in the water, down and out. Fuck he needed the angle to be right, and he never could do that. He almost did though and the spell bounced and refracted back to him pushed him away from the scaffolding. But a jagged piece hit his head as he flew back; he could smell some blood. Eskel hauled him up and they looked at the rubble of scaffolding and the wall. “That stone is a bit crooked there,” Geralt pointed out.

“Geralt, you should have hit your head harder, maybe knock some sense into it. Here how about I help with that?” Eskel swung and Geralt easily dodged it. When he shook his head, blood dripped down his face. “Shit, wolf, we’ll clean up later, let’s get you in and fixed up.”

“It is fine, no double vision, or woozy feeling. And we’ll catch hell from Vesemir if we don’t clean this wood up.”

“Blood is pouring down your face, makes you look better than usual,” Eskel teased, “but not the best for working?”

Geralt wiped the blood of his face, and sighed when more dripped down. “Stupid fucking head wounds.” They were the bane of a witcher’s existence because they bled so much, could blind you in a fight, get you killed even if the wound itself was incredibly minor. He swiped again, but the blood was still coming. “Fine,” he agreed. He took his shirt off and held it to his scalp as he went into the keep. “You start the clean up, I’ll be back in a few minutes to finish up.” Geralt headed to his room. A bit of a healing potion rubbed on would be enough if the pressure of the shirt hadn’t stopped it by the time he got there. 

He went into his room and the balcony doors were flung open, a chair dragged halfway between the room and the outdoor space, Jaskier curled up under a mound of furs, book in hand. “Good morning.”

“Geralt, finished early today,” Jaskier must have not been reading if he responded automatically. Everyone had learned that you had to call three or four times if you needed his attention while he was reading. “I could use some te - what the fuck happened?”

“I took scaffolding to the head. I’m fine.”

“You took -” Jaskier stood up and hurried over. “Geralt, you are hurt.”

“I am fine, just a small gash.” He moved the shirt away and there was a fair bit of blood on it. He heard a gasp and looked at Jaskier, “Fuck, are you bad with blood?” He wasn’t - no witcher was, and just forgot that some people had issues with blood. But Jaskier had seen him bleed, those soldiers bleed on the journey to Kaer Morhen and hadn't reacted.

“We need to get you to a healer, how do we? I’ll go! Down the mountain. I…why don’t you have a healer? Fuck, I need a pack and a horse? I’m going. Yeah. Healer, you just have to stay alive, that is all. I’ll get a healer, and fuck, Geralt you can’t die!”

Geralt could smell the panic coming off of Jaskier. Fuck. “Jaskier, I am fine.”

“So much blood, I need to -”

“You need to breathe.” Geralt tossed the shirt away, the wound was at a slow ooze at most at this point. “I am fine. It is a small gash, and head wounds bleed a lot. I promise. There won’t even be a scar. It looks worse than it is. A bit of healing potion, doesn’t even need to be seared or stitched.”

“Where, potion, where?”

“In my chest there,” Geralt answered automatically and caught Jaskier as he dove for it. “Fuck, you cannot go mucking about in that chest. Omega,” Geralt growled when Jaskier started to fight his grip. He didn’t want to but he put a touch of the alpha voice on, “Jaskier, I say no.” Jaskier didn’t quite go limp in his arms, but he did stop fighting. “Other things in there, one touch, and it could kill you. I will get the potion. And I am sorry for using the voice on you.”

“Wasn’t as much this time, just stopped the panic. It is fine. Rather not be dead before I can help you.”

“Help me?” Geralt was confused by that as he went to the chest and found the correct potion. He found it plucked from his fingers and his hand being tugged. “Jaskier?”

“You need to sit. Head wounds are dangerous.”

“This was nothing,” Geralt said but let himself be tugged to the chair by the balcony. It was a nice day out, sun shining, air crisp. He was pushed and didn’t move.

“Fucking mountain. Will you sit?” Jaskier tried to growl at him, put strength in his voice and it was adorable. Geralt sat. “Now, what do I do with the potion?”

“A bit rubbed on the wound, a bit drunken. With a wound this small, not even a quarter of the bottle is needed.” Geralt realized something, “You didn’t react like this when Lambert stabbed me?”

“I believe I mildly reacted with some shouting and confusion.” 

“But not all this?” Geralt gestured trying to encompass whatever it was that Jaskier was doing.

“I thought he was your omega, so he would attend to the fixing the stabbing he did. You were injured this time, and you came to me.”

“I came to my room,” Geralt had to point out.

“Which I was in,” Jaskier countered. “I need to wash this before we put the potion on it. There is some stuff around the wound I don’t want healing in there. Stay!” Jaskier ordered like Geralt was a dog. He growled a bit at that, but didn’t move, and he couldn’t explain why. Jaskier returned with a bowl of water and a washcloth. “Good boy,” Jaskier praised, “Thank you for doing as I asked.” 

The praise made Geralt feel a bit odd, like he had a stomach cramp, but he also wanted more. It was a problem. Maybe Vesemir could explain it later. “Just get on with it.” 

“Yes, yes,” Jaskier huffed. “Stay still, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Geralt ignored that because he had once had a creature open him up and put rocks in his gut, and he had managed to kill the creature, fish the stones out and hold his flesh together until it healed. He was fairly certain he could handle Jaskier clean a wound. “Ow,” he winced. 

“Your hair is all matted into the wound from how you pressed the shirt against it.” But Jaskier’s press of the wet cloth gentled. “Shh, just let me take care of you alpha.”

“Fine,” Geralt closed his eyes, let Jaskier do what he wanted, because it was clear his life would be easier if he just let this all happen. The cloth pressed against his scalp and Jaskier began to sing softly. A gentle farmer’s ballad, that made Geralt relax back into the chair. Jaskier’s hand was just against his head as the other cleaned the wound. The fingers buried in his hair and scratched at his scalp.

For the first time in a very long time, Geralt found a rumble building in his chest. He could have stopped it but god he didn’t want to. He let himself purr, as that one hand scratched. Jaskier went still for a moment and Geralt stopped the noise. “I’m sorry,” Geralt said into the quiet. “You just.”

“What was that?”

“Alpha purr,” Geralt replied. He looked up at Jaskier. “You’ve never heard it?”

“Thought it was -”

“A myth,” Geralt finished. “You really never knew an alpha happy enough to purr?”

“You met my father, and I was never allowed near a lot of alphas growing up, in case I ruined the family name. And look how that worked out.” Jaskier pressed the cloth a bit more and then put it in the bowl, lay that on the ground. “All clean.” He wiped off his fingers. “Now I just dab a bit on the wound?”

“Just a bit, it is probably already closing.”

Jaskier nodded and a bit was placed on his finger and it was so gentle on the wound. “I’ve read everything Eskel and Vesemir gathered for me. Twice in some cases.”

When Jaskier’s hand left his scalp, for a moment Geralt leaned forward not wanting to lose the touch. “Touch,” Geralt found himself saying.

“Need to drink a bit first, alpha.”

“It really is fine.”

“Drink,” Jaskier growled and then nuzzled the right side of his neck. Geralt found himself taking a sip and when he looked at Jaskier his eyes were bright. “Good alpha.” Geralt shivered and a small purr escaped. “You like that.”

Geralt nodded, and Jaskier was watching him. “Touch,” Jaskier agreed and settled into his lap. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier and Jaskier sank a hand into his hair, started scratching his scalp again. Geralt felt the purr rumble up and out again, and they just stayed like that. “Do you know how hard it is to wrap my brain around how different you are from my expectations of who I would mate? How different everything is here, to what I was raised to believe was my life. How you understand all this, how I understand it all, it is so different.”

“I know,” Geralt took a chance and rubbed his hand up and down Jaskier’s back. “What did you expect, what did you hope?”

“Those are very different things.” Jaskier’s hand left his scalp and he curled into Geralt. His nose nuzzled against Geralt’s bare skin, comforting himself with alpha scent. “I expected to hate my life, be useless, unwanted only married for my name, for breeding.”

“You were married for your name, that came true.”

“When I was taken home and they told me, cursed me, starved me, said I had ruined them, and they were going to ruin me, I was almost relieved.” Jaskier’s head was heavy against Geralt’s heart. “Because it was all over, the pretense of care, the expectations. They said they made the worst possible match they could and not lose face. A witcher, the wild wolves. They thought it would be a nightmare. They expected me to be scared. Played that part, but I wasn’t because, it would be more straightforward. You’d either kill me, move to a city and forget me. Either was better.” 

“I didn’t do either.”

“No, you didn’t.” Jaskier’s arm wrapped around him. “You, Geralt, you are everything I ever hoped for. Or I think maybe you could be?”

“A semi literate not quite human who is decades out of touch with how things should be? Really that is what you hoped for?” Geralt was skeptical to say the least.

“I hoped to be cared for, wanted. Affection.” There were more of those nuzzles against his skin. “It just is packaged differently than I expected. Alpha voice is a real thing.”

“It is.”

“Know what I also read in there though?”

“What?”

“The more dominant an alpha, the more protective they are of their omega, the more they exist to serve their omega. Made me think of the way you are with Lambert.” Jaskier looked up at him. “Made me wonder what we will be to each other.”

“I suppose we’ll figure that out?” Geralt was hesitant. Hopeful. “We have all winter.”

“We do,” Jaskier agreed. “Pack dynamics are interesting. Can’t wait to apply more of what I’ve read.”

“Remember to ask Lambert before you touch or scent him. You were fine that one time, but he can be a bit tetchy.” Which was an incredible understatement.

“I know, I will,” Jaskier agreed. “Can I?” 

“What?”

“Touch?”

“Yes,” Geralt agreed, and sat very still as Jaskier’s hand mapped his skin trailing over his neck, along his shoulder, down his chest. Geralt shivered when the fingers skittered over his nipple. “Jaskier.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Geralt said, “That is the concern.”

“Oh.” Jaskier stopped. “Do you not want me to touch you like that?”

“I want it very much, but,” Geralt quieted for a moment. “But I don’t want to rush this. If we end up in bed, it will change everything. I won’t, it would be hard to let you go if I claim you like that. And I don’t want, unless.”

“I didn’t expect that.”

“What?”

“A romantic alpha of my very own.” Jaskier tilted his head up and Geralt gasped as Jaskier scented the left side of his neck. “Those books also said that alphas do certain things to show their omega they are cherished. Wanted, protected.”

“I know,” Geralt agreed. Things he had done long ago, before the purge, things he had desperately missed doing, had assumed he would never do again. 

“I never expected things like that,” Jaskier looked at him. “But I hoped?”

Geralt nuzzled over Jaskier’s scent gland. “Hope. Please hope,” he whispered against the skin.

“I will,” Jaskier said. He eased off Geralt’s lap. “Now, I’ve done all my reading. Can I be useful? Please?”

Geralt stood. He went to the chest and pulled out a clean shirt. “What chores can you do?”

“I can…tidy books?” Jaskier sort of slumped. “I cannot do much. Beyond singing, playing music.”

“No one can do much if they aren’t taught. Let’s get you to Vesemir, he’ll help you figure out where you can help.” They left the bedchamber, Geralt dressing as he went. They found Vesemir in the kitchen, preparing some food. “Vesemir, Jaskier wants to help. He just doesn’t know how.”

“I am sure we can think of something,” Vesemir smiled at Jaskier. “Let’s start with vegetables.”

Jaskier hurried over and nuzzled the right side of Vesemir’s neck. Geralt watched Vesemir tense and then lean into the pack affection. “Thank you, cub.” Vesemir looked at him. “Now, I trust you are going to go help Eskel finish cleaning up that wood?”

“Yes sir.” Geralt stole a bit of carrot from the pile to drop off to Roach, and for himself. He smiled at Jaskier, “I’ll see you later.” There was a smile in return and then Jaskier was nuzzling Vesemir more, cuddling into the old beta. He saw Vesemir reach up and give Jaskier’s head a good scritch. They would do well. Geralt went round to where Eskel was piling the wood. Lambert was coming and grabbing some of it for the bridge. They both wrinkled their noses.

“What?” Geralt shrugged.

“You smell so happy.”

“Maybe I am.”

Lambert shuddered. “It is so weird. And sweet. Stop it.”

“No,” Geralt replied. “Get used to it.” He began to stack the wood. “Also, Jaskier seems to like taking care of me when I am wounded. In a few weeks, could you stab me again?”

“I can do that right now if you want,” Lambert pulled a dagger from his waistband and started moving forward.

Eskel just shook his head. “Sooner we attend to our jobs, sooner we can relax with some mead in the hot springs,” he pointed out.

“But stabbing!”

“In a few weeks. Be more fun if you can plot it, surprise him with it,” Eskel suggested, and Lambert put away his dagger because that was an excellent point. They settled into work, and Geralt’s happy scent didn’t diminish in the least.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is into Geralt doing laundry.

“You’re dropping your left,” Vesemir shouted at him, and Geralt shifted his shoulders. “Letting those bad habits of yours become habits?”

“I am still alive aren’t I?” Geralt called back. “And are you going to talk to Lambert about that weak aard he just threw at me?” He pivoted but didn’t get quen up in time, and was thrown back by Eskel’s quen, and a fake bomb landed in his lap. He was dead. “Fuck, now I am on laundry duty.” He huffed a bit. “You distracted me,” he pointed at Vesemir, “On purpose.”

“Did I? A few shouted words from an old man are enough to distract you? Tsk tsk, what does that mean could happen on the path?” Vesemir was smirking at him. “My laundry is already in the room.”

“You and me,” Geralt challenged, as he stood up. “Double or nothing.” He swung his sword and he knew his scent was pleased when Vesemir moved forward. Eskel and Lambert settled on the wall and were cheering, more for a good fight than to support either. Geralt was confident in his skills, though fuck it was as hard as ever to get around Vesemir’s guard. He always knew where a sword was going to land. 

“Careful, pup, your omega is watching, don’t want me to show you up in front of him,” Vesemir whispered. Geralt knew it was a trick, he did, but he shifted his gaze just a little, just in case, and Vesemir put him on his ass, had his sword to Geralt’s throat. “Lambert, make sure there is some extra filthy laundry for him to do.”

“I’ll go harpy hunting, get shit on a bit, that stuff is murder to get out of linen.”

“You would go willingly get shit on, just to make my laundry time worse,” Geralt shot Lambert a look. “Really?”

“Yes,” Lambert grinned. “Of course I would.”

Of course he would. Geralt sighed and they continued the morning’s exercise. It was a fun morning except for the fact that after he had to head to the laundry rooms. He went to his room and changed from the morning’s training clothes. He saw a tear on the shoulder of his shirt, but there were mending supplies in the laundry rooms. Geralt knocked on Jaskier’s door. “Jaskier, I’m on laundry, do you have anything?” He waited but there wasn’t an answer. He called again, just in case he was reading, but nothing. Must be somewhere in the keep. Geralt left his room as Lambert was coming down the hall. Lambert stripped naked right then and there, threw his clothes into the pile in Geralt’s hands and continued onto his room.

“Fuck you,” Geralt called.

“Next week, harpy shit,” Lambert replied and was even whistling the bastard. Geralt growled a little which just made Lambert laugh more. As he walked at least Eskel was polite enough to hand him a basket and be dressed. 

“Breeches in there need mending, socks darned,” Eskel smiled. 

“I hate you,” Geralt growled some more. He hated darning socks most of all. He went down to the laundry rooms which were just off the kitchens, both near the well. He hauled a few buckets into one of the laundry cauldrons and lit the wood underneath. It would take it a while to warm, so he sorted the laundry a little, pulled all the mending and darning, separated the dark from the light linen shirts and chemises. It wasn’t too bad, but his brothers were going make it a nightmare soon enough. Vesemir’s basket was there and at least it was all neatly sorted. When the fire was hot enough Geralt threw the dark in with some lye and grabbed the big stick to start moving it around. He was going to let it soak for a bit. He decided to fill one of the other cauldrons, left the water cold for the linens to start to soak gently.

Geralt then found the repair kits and while there were a few chairs, he preferred sitting on one of the tables. He lit a lamp and there was good light through the windows. He debated which to start with when he heard a noise. He looked up and there was Jaskier, with a small pile of clothes in hand. “You can throw the dark in the there, the light in there.” Jaskier was just clutching the clothes though. “What?”

“They are so much nicer than yours,” Jaskier blurted out, “I don’t want you ruining them.”

“Fair,” Geralt replied easily, “I am awful with the laundry. I get the blood out and they smell less, but that is about it. There are basins and one other cauldron there.”

“I don’t know how to wash them,” Jaskier scent was painfully frustrated. “And there is a tear in the one sleeve.” He was holding up a shirt that was far finer than anything they wore, lace at the the collar, delicate work all around. Geralt was pretty sure that the lye he was using would destroy it.

“Hmm,” was all Geralt could say.

“I…what the fuck does it matter, really? Just clothes right?” Jaskier squared his jaw and threw the breeches and doublet into the heated cauldron and the linen shirt in the cool. “Thank you?” Jaskier sighed. “Vesemir is teaching me how re rope the beds. I should get back.”

Geralt nodded as Jaskier left. He went over and quickly fished the clothes out of the cauldrons. The water in the one was hot enough that it made even him wince, which probably was not great for the clothes. He wrung them out and stared. The heat or the lye had made the dyes leech a bit in the outerwear, they were definitely more faded. He couldn’t fix that but he put them in a smaller tub with fresh water, that he warmed with a gentle igni. He went through the shelves and found a bit of a powdery cleaner that would be gentler than lye. He thought, anyways, as he sprinkled it. He then looked at the delicate shirt. He washed it by hand and then rolled it in a drying cloth to soak up a lot of water. Later he checked the weather and it was sunny and cold but not freezing. He hung it and a few other things to dry on the line since they were unlikely to freeze. He went back in and did the bit of darning, and it was ugly work but sturdy.

Everything else was as clean as it was going to get and laid out. He’d come back later to get things off the line. He wandered the keep a bit, wondered what to do. He wanted to check on Jaskier, but was worried that it would seem like he fussing. He decided a bit of out wouldn’t be a bad idea. Geralt went into the woods and set some snares. He meditate and enjoyed the smell of the trees, of the quiet around him. A few hours later he had some catches and didn’t feel as restless. He dropped the kills off at the kitchen, where Eskel was making bread. “Want me to clean them?”

“No, I have it, wolf,” Eskel replied. “And Jaskier said he wanted to learn, so I will get him to help. He has a quick mind. I thought he would be reluctant to learn the tasks that keep us going in winter, but he wants to be of value.”

“He is of value.”

Eskel grabbed a few knives. “I don’t know if he has been told that a lot. Or if he has, it was value for things outside of his control. A feeling we can understand. He was valued for his name, for his biology. We are valued for the mutagens, for our blade.”

Geralt went over and pressed his forehead to Eskel’s, “You are valued for you kindness, your intelligence. For the steadiness of your heart. For the way you are just as much of a shit as Lambert, but can hide it so well.”

Eskel laughed and it made Geralt happy. “You are valued, wolf, for how much you love our asshole tendencies, your worry, your determination, the depth of your heart.”

Geralt breathed in that soft beta scent of Eskel, the kitchens, it was comforting. He could hear footsteps running, recognized them easily. Jaskier came into the kitchen. “Touch!” he shouted and burrowed himself in between the two men. “Why are we hugging?” He arms were already around them both. 

“Reminding each other of our value,” Eskel said. “Geralt brought in a few kills. Want to learn how to dress them?”

“Sure,” Jaskier agreed, and scented the right side of Eskel’s neck, and then dragged his nose along the left of Geralt. “Is it really bloody?”

“Well, it is removing organs and skinning an animal - it isn’t not bloody.”

“Yeah, sure, no I am ready.” Jaskier nodded.

“And Geralt, I am pretty sure that Lambert left more laundry for you.” Eskel was smirking which wasn’t a good sign. “He also went out this afternoon.”

Geralt groaned and went to the laundry room where there was a pile. Covered in troll shit. “Did he fucking roll around in it?” He was going to have his revenge one day, and soon. He set to cleaning it, and checked everything on the line. It was dry and he brought it in. Geralt settled on the table, with the mending kit. He did all the simple repairs first and then gently held Jaskier’s shirt. He studied the lace at collar carefully and then nodded to himself. He looked through the tin and found the darker thread. It would stand out more against the fabric, but that was the point. He wasn’t going for an invisible mend.

The great secret, which wasn’t so secret, was that as much as Geralt loathed laundry and darning, he didn’t mind mending, was a fair hand at it. And from what he knew of Jaskier, he thought making it pretty was the right way to go. Geralt repaired the tear in the sleeve with a leaf stitch and then added a few more leaves and vines around the area. He had large hands, but they were surprisingly suited to delicate work. Geralt hummed as he worked, not a song in particular more just a noise that filled the air a little rise and fall that matched how the needle went in and out of the fabric. He was pleased with the work. He hoped Jaskier would like it.

He cleaned the last of the clothes and continued to plot his revenge on Lambert as he gathered everything that was dry, set out the rest to be ready in the morning. He dropped cleanish items at doors and when Lambert smirked at him, Geralt growled, which only increased the smirk. “You’ll pay.”

“Worth it.”

Geralt could see into the room, the bed had been moved. The nest in the corner was also larger. “Lambert?”

“Nothing,” Lambert replied.

“Are you sure?” Geralt knew something was up, but Lambert’s scent was the same as ever. “Do you need me? You don’t have to not need me if you need me.”

There was the expected eye roll. “I’m fine, just a thing that isn’t a thing thing. Don’t make me stab you before I am supposed to stab you.” The clothes were taken and the door shut in his face.

Geralt walked away and went to his room. He put away his clothes, and since Jaskier’s door was open went and carefully laid out the shirt on the bed, folded doublet and trousers with them. He sat in his chair, with one of the books Lambert had bound for him. He put his feet up, and read slowly, his finger moving along the page to help him focus. Jaskier came in, a bit of blood on his shirt, which Geralt realized was actually one of his shirts. He blinked and couldn’t stop the growl.

“I know, I know, but Eskel told me to,” Jaskier protested. “I am sorry I took a shirt without your permission, but he said you wouldn’t mind.” Jaskier was scowling a bit. “I have decided that while I want to learn a lot, cleaning kills is not one of the things I wish to become proficient at. You can have the shirt back.” Jaskier pulled it off and looked at the blood on it. “Oh, well, I’ll just put it in the laundry basket? I could wash it tomorrow, you could teach me. Even if you are as bad as the others say. Which by the way, why would they be happy to have you do laundry if you are bad at it?”

“Because they are just as bad,” Geralt explained. “I am not mad you took a shirt of mine.”

“Then why did you growl?”

“Because I like how you looked in my shirt.” That was an understatement. For a moment Geralt could picture Jaskier wearing nothing but his shirt, and then nothing but his scent. A small purr escaped his throat before he controlled it. He watched a bit of a flush rise along Jaskier’s chest and up his throat. Geralt returned to his book but he couldn’t focus on the words, a bit embarrassed to be reading in front of Jaskier. His finger moving along the page probably looked so absurd to the omega. He saw Jaskier go to his room out of the corner of his eye and waited for a response to the laundry, to the mending but there was none. Shit maybe he should have just done a simple repair. His work couldn’t match the quality Jaskier was used to. Geralt closed the book and left the room. At dinner that night, Jaskier was wearing a plain shirt from his bag, not the one that Geralt had repaired. He knew he must smell wrong because Lambert kicked him under the table and then rubbed his foot along Geralt’s ankle offering comfort for whatever was wrong.

Geralt found himself restless that night and didn’t want to disturb Jaskier so he wandered the keep for hours, until Vesemir was tired of hearing Geralt wander outside his room. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Geralt replied.

“Of course not,” Vesemir sighed. “In you get.”

“I’m not tired,” Geralt protested, as if he was a child again. “Don’t need to go to bed.” 

“In or no treats tomorrow,” Vesemir warned, “Won’t let you throw daggers at Lambert.” Shit, that was a credible threat. Geralt crawled into Vesemir’s bed, and buried his nose in Vesemir’s neck, wrapped himself around his mentor. “There you go,” Vesemir scratched the back of his head. “Nice and comfortable.”

“I did a thing, and I think it was the wrong thing.”

“Then you’ll make it right tomorrow.”

Geralt nodded and he yawned. “Not tired.”

“I know,” Vesemir said. “When fighting ghouls a witcher has a few options. They may be a simple threat in comparison to others, but that doesn’t mean they should relax their guard.”

Geralt smiled as the old lessons were repeated, Vesemir’s low rumbly voice helping him drift off.

Three days later, Geralt was back doing laundry, because maybe it had warmed they they had all tumbled about the snow and mud a bit too enthusiastically. The clothes were caked enough that he was using the dull side of a hunting knife to scrape the muck away.

“You three really went at it today, didn’t you?”

Geralt looked up and paused his work. Jaskier was wearing the breeches he had cleaned and the shirt he had mended, no doublet. He had been wearing the doublet less and less around the keep but with his sturdier shirts, not this thin one. He looked beautiful. And his repairs looked so clumsy on the delicate fabric. Geralt returned to the scraping. “We had fun.”

“It looked it.” 

Geralt was surprised when Jaskier didn’t leave, and he didn’t seem to have any laundry with him. Instead the man hopped up on the tables and opened a book. One of Geralt’s books. He began to read aloud, and his voice was so smooth and gentle as it read. Geralt just listened for a few moments, eyes closed, cherishing each word. He went back to work scraping and then tossed the clothes in the hot water. He stirred them a bit and shrugged, it was good enough. He sat on the table as well, leaned back against the wall, and once again closed his eyes to listen. 

Jaskier kept reading as he scooted closer and lay his head on Geralt’s thigh. Geralt pressed a hand into Jaskier’s hair as the words rose and fell. The others read to him, but this was different, it was so much. He breathed in Jaskier’s scent and the man was clearly content, happy to be doing this. Geralt was fairly certain he could listen for forever if Jaskier chose to give him that.

There was a lull, as Jaskier finished a chapter. “Thank you,” Jaskier said.

“It is rough work.”

“It is lovely. I was wondering, would you do similar on my other shirts?”

“They need mending?”

“No, I just like the look of it. Wouldn’t mind more on my clothes. Bit of your mark on me.”

Geralt shivered a bit at that sentence. “I would be happy to do that.” His voice was thick and low as he spoke.

Jaskier turned his head a bit and rubbed his nose against Geralt’s stomach and went back to reading. They sat on the table, Geralt’s hand in Jaskier’s hair, and the room was full of Jaskier’s smooth voice, and Geralt’s contented purrs. 


	12. Chapter 12

“I didn’t know that much snow could fall,” Jaskier was looking out the balcony window, in awe, and a bit of fear. It had been coming down all day, and showed no signs of stopping. They had been here a few weeks, and today was the day it was certain, they weren’t leaving until spring. “Does it get worse than this?”

“Yes,” Geralt answered calmly. “Much.”

“How much?”

“The good news is we all have fire so it doesn’t take a few days to dig out the courtyards or the door to the hot springs,” Geralt offered. He looked at Jaskier, “want to go out in it?”

Jaskier at first laughed, but quieted when he properly looked at Geralt. “No, I don’t fancy death, not with the way it is blowing about. We would freeze in an instance.” But there was also intrigue in his eyes. Geralt, all of them, were realizing how much Jaskier hungered. For knowledge, and experiences. There were chores he had taken to and ones he didn’t, but every new thing they presented to him, he at least wanted to understand how it was done. To their surprise he had declared himself the laundry god and shooed them all away. Seemed there had been a book in the library and they had been doing it all wrong for a century at least.

Geralt had sewn more leaves into Jaskier’s clothes, the one linen shirt the arm almost completely covered in the leaves and he had even tried a few flowers. More and more of his mark on Jaskier. “Go grab your furs,” Geralt told him and watched Jaskier run to his room. He smiled at how quickly the young man was back to him, furs over his shoulder like a majestic cape. Geralt adjusted it. “Stand in front of me,” he told Jaskier. “When I say to, pull open the door.”

Geralt watched the winds out his door and there was a brief lull, “Now,” he shouted and Jaskier flung open the door. Geralt cast quen. They were in a perfect bubble, could feel the wind and snow pressing against the bubble of magic. It whipped around them, shouted, teased. 

“It’s magnificent,” Jaskier was almost breathless in awe.

“Ready the door,” Geralt said, his quen the weakest of his work especially against the elements. He saw Jaskier reach and he dropped quen but they both were needed to push the door closed against the wind, and Jaskier received a huge gust of snow to his face for his efforts. It would be so cold to the omega and Geralt quickly wiped the snow from his lashes. “I’m sorry.”

There was a shout and Geralt had Jaskier clinging to him. Furs tossed to the ground, legs around his waist, Jaskier’s nose buried against his neck. “That was…again! We have to do that again. Can we go further out onto the balcony so the storm completely surrounds your wish bubble?”

“Quen,” Geralt reminded him. He thought about it. “You really want to be out in the storm?”

“Yes,” Jaskier was beaming and his eyes were shining so brightly. “Can we?”

“I have an idea, settle in with a book, give us a few minutes?”

“Us?”

“Idea. Surprise,” Geralt nudged Jaskier, not to the omega’s room, but towards Geralt’s bed. He had the better furs and fireplace was his logic. It wasn’t that he wanted to see Jaskier in his bed, surrounded by his scent. “You’ll stay, right there, until I come get you?” Geralt grabbed a book from his mantle and tossed it to Jaskier. “Stay.”

Jaskier snorted a bit but snuggled deep into the sheets and furs. “The omega stays,” he promised and wrinkled his nose at Geralt.

“Good,” Geralt said and hurried from the room. He banged on Lambert’s door first because it was closest. “Lambert, I know you aren’t asleep.”

“I know that too!” was what he heard back.

“Idea. Help me.”

“Busy, Geralt.”

“It is for Jaskier. Fun idea. Stupid idea.” Geralt banged on the door again. “Please?”

“Dammit Geralt, I am three fingers deep in my ass right now.”

“So finish while I get Eskel and Vesemir. Meet us at the front door. With washed hands.”

“No, you’ve killed the moment hang on.”

Geralt waited at Lambert’s door and a few minutes later, it was opened. “This better be extra stupid so I can make fun of you for months,” Lambert warned him. 

“You’ll need warmer clothes.”

“Why?”

“Because you are going to be stupid for me too.”

“Fucking hell, Geralt,” Lambert groaned. 

“It will be amazing!” Geralt swore. “I’m getting the others. Put something warmer on. And definitely boots.” Geralt jogged down the hall and it took a good bit to wake Eskel up because at Kaer Morhen the man slept as if he was hibernating. But once he was awake he agreed to help without any complaint, because Eskel was a good man like that. As for Vesemir, Geralt had to promise to do all the snow clearing when the storm stopped but it would be worth it. They all stood at the front door and Geralt told them the idea. He ducked the knife that Lambert threw at him, but that meant his missed the one Eskel threw and it nicked his jaw. 

“Hey, that is his thing, I don’t expect it from you. You just hit me with aard when you are annoyed.” Which was a stupid thing to say, as aard blasted him into the door which opened under his weight and landed him right out in the storm. He stood and hurried back in. “Tell me he wouldn’t find it amazing. And we’ve done much worse for fun.” He didn’t add that it was a long time since they had done anything like that. “Please?” 

Vesemir sighed and nodded at Eskel. They opened the doors and Eskel cast igni and Vesemir pushed the flames out with igni. It melted what had gathered on the ground. Geralt looked to Lambert. “I can’t go out in that,” Lambert said quietly. “I can be here but I can’t go out in that. Best game plan, me at the door, Vesemir runs out next link in the chain, then Eskel because he is strongest, then you two.”

Geralt nodded. “Still?” he asked softly. There was a nod. “I’m going to hug you.” There wasn’t even a threat of a stabbing. He just reached out and pulled Lambert in. They stood still, comforting each other. “You still smell like arousal.”

“Of course I do, you jackass, I was pretty far into it. Go get your damn omega, who by the way you could have been three fingers in on this shitty night.”

Geralt really couldn’t have been. Jaskier didn’t want that from him. He went back to the rooms, and Jaskier was still in the bed, and he was clearly fighting to stay awake. “Surprise is ready.”

“Can it be a surprise in this bed?” Jaskier yawned and snuggled. Fuck for a moment Geralt was tempted, to crawl in with him, but then Lambert would really stab him. 

“I promise it will be worth it,” Geralt swore. “But you need boots.”

“What’d you do to make Lambert cut you?” Jaskier was gesturing at his jaw which had the knife scratch on it

“Oh, no that was Eskel. Wait…would you like to take care of me?” He would absolutely leave the others hanging for that.

“No, if Eskel did it, I am sure you deserved it.”

Geralt pouted a bit but froze when Jaskier’s tongue came out and licked the scratch. He couldn’t stop the purr. Fuck, his omega…the omega was licking his wound. He wondered if Jaskier could recognize the arousal scent creeping like vines along his skin. And fuck he just sort of described his arousal in his own mind as if it was Heinrich and that was revolting enough to remind him of the plan.

“Boots,” Geralt urged. He waited and Jaskier returned carrying them. Geralt was too excited by his idea to wait and he nudged Jaskier onto his bed and slid the boots onto the man himself. Geralt laced them carefully. He even tied in a sweet bow, just like Jaskier did. For a moment he let his hands rest on Jaskier’s calves, stared at the man’s knees. Geralt cleared his throat and stood. “Come on they won’t wait forever.”

They started walking, but Geralt was too happy with his idea and began to move quickly, Jaskier had to almost run to keep apace. Then they were at the door with the others. “Ready?” he asked them.

There was much eye rolling but the doors were pushed open. In the time he had taken to get Jaskier, the storm had grown worse. “Lambert,” Geralt called. “Go.”

Lambert waited an extra count but then cast quen but barely over himself, more out, Vesemir went to the edge of that bubble and then cast as well. Eskel in turn ran and pushed his quen out, the widest bubble of them all.

Geralt didn’t think just picked up Jaskier and ran until he was at the edge of Eskel’s and cast as well. The others ran in reverse order back, and they were left standing in the middle of the storm, not a single snow flake having touched Jaskier. “You are in the middle of the storm,” Geralt told him and put him down. He focused on his quen determined to hold it as long as he could. 

“Geralt!” There was more innocent joy in Jaskier’s voice than Geralt thought an adult could contain. He slowly spun around. “Look at it.” He was laughing and spun around and around. Geralt breathed him in. He had never seen or scented happier and it made him giddy but he was weakening.

“Now,” he called and the quen bridge came back to them. They hurried through and inside. “There you go. Your surprise.”

“It was better than any name day or solstice gift imaginable,” Jaskier swore. “But fuck I am freezing. Worth it, but Quen protects from the wind and snow, not the temperature.” There was a bit of a shiver. 

Geralt was about to suggest Jaskier could sleep in his bed that night when Lambert let out a huge sigh. “Fine, since he was an idiot and thought it was a good idea to let a human out into that storm, suppose it is best if we get you all tucked into my nest.”

“You have like an always nest? We can do that? I thought you only nested when you were in heat?” Jaskier looked shocked.

And, as ever, intrigued by new information.

Lambert made a face. “Of course I have an always nest. They are really comfortable especially because you know, winter? But if you aren’t a regular nest person that is - remember to ask first!”

Geralt had seen Jaskier start to reach out and then he pulled his arms back. “Can I hug you, Lambert?” Jaskier was clearly aching to jump on the man.

“Yes, you -” Jaskier had already leapt at the yes, and Lambert braced as he ended up with Jaskier just wrapped around him. “Can,” Lambert finished just on principle. “Right you lot do whatever, we’re headed off.”

“Bye, Geralt, thank you for my surprise.” Jaskier was smiling at him over Lambert’s shoulder, the witcher easily carrying his fellow omega. “You are really good at magical surprises alpha.”

Geralt watched them move through the main hall. Eskel came and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You could surprise him with your magical dick?”

Geralt just pushed Eskel away and was about to shove again, but it was Vesemir standing next to him, and it didn’t matter how old he was, push Vesemir like his brothers and he would end up with extra peeling vegetable duties. “Thank you, for helping me give that to Jaskier.”

“Of course, he deserves a bit of magic. Don’t go to sleep tonight, pup,” Vesemir warned. “Meditate only. There will be trouble.”

“On the journey here, they regularly rolled into each other,” Geralt frowned. “What problems could there be?”

“Just do I as suggest,” Vesemir clasped his neck and went to his rooms. Geralt slowly went back to his, stopped to listen at Lambert’s door. But he could just hear the murmur of their voices and it sounded content. But he trusted Vesemir. Geralt sank down and settled on his knees, the carpet protecting them from the stone underneath. He let the meditative state slide over him, but at a restful level but not fully regenerative.

Two hours later when the screams began in Lambert’s room, he was on his feet in an instant. He didn’t care about knocking, he would deal with being stabbed later; he had to make sure that Jaskier was alright. The nest was in the corner and a good size; The two omegas well ensconced in it. Jaskier’s eyes were wide and they filled with desperate tears. “Geralt,” he begged. “He isn’t waking up. Why isn’t he waking up?”

“Living nightmares. When they catch us, they hold us well.” Lambert was curled into a tight ball, screaming, begging for anyone to hear him. Like he had that night. Geralt didn’t dare enter an omega nest, no matter how Jaskier’s sadness and desperation was urging him to climb in, to comfort to protect. “I found you then, I’ll find you now,” Geralt promised. “I’m going to touch you,” he warned, even though the man couldn’t hear him. Geralt reached a hand in, and lay it on Lambert’s elbow, his arms covering his head. He cupped that rough skin. “I found you. I did. In time. You weren’t one of the ones dug out dead. I found you Lambert. I’ll always find you.” Geralt heard a sniffle and looked at Jaskier who wiped away his tears. “We have a story to tell you,” Geralt told him. “A nightmare, a tragedy.” Through the sadness there was that intrigue, the hunger for knowledge. “First though, sing to him. There was no singing that night. It should help.”

Geralt kept whispering that he found Lambert, that he always found, and he let his scent rise, let it offer comfort. To them both, Lambert trapped in his nightmare, Jaskier witnessing such. Jaskier sang soft lullabies, happy songs of love and promises of kind tomorrows. The lies good parents tell their children. He had once had those lies; Lambert never had. “I found you,” Geralt repeated.

Jaskier sang a half dozen songs, and slowly Lambert’s body began to relax, the stink of fear on him was horrific to Geralt’s nose but he would breathe in far worse to see Lambert come back. Lambert pulled away from Geralt’s touch, turned into Jaskier’s and pulled the omega close. 

“You can just touch right now, you don’t need to ask,” Geralt whispered.

“No, you did. Lambert, I’m going to touch you now.” Jaskier held tightly, scented Lambert as much as he could, tried to soothe. Geralt breathed in and it was different.

Lambert’s eyes opened, “Hey cub,” he whispered. Geralt stood and fetched some water, which Lambert drank. He hissed and Geralt moved back, settled on Lambert’s bed. Lambert threw off his sleep trousers which were soaked in sweat, a bit of piss. “Mind?”

“No,” Jaskier reassured. “Nests are generally naked places. Here.” Jaskier threw off the sleep clothes that Lambert had given him. “There all naked, all exposed.”

“Not quite,” Lamber pressed his nose against Jaskier’s neck. “We know you.”

“How can you, most days I don’t know me yet.”

Geralt thought about that and how much it said about Jaskier.

“Fair, I should say we know the worst that has happened to you,” Lambert moved back a little bit. “You should know the worst that happened to us.”

“Are you sure?” Geralt asked.

“No,” Lambert laughed. “But he should know.”

It was true, but still. “Should the others be here?”

“Can’t do this in front of Vesemir, he always gets so sad he didn’t stop it.”

“He couldn’t have, nothing could have.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaskier asked and sounded worried.

“How do stories begin, Jaskier?” Lambert asked. Geralt started to move forward, but Lambert just pointed for him to stay put and he did.

“Once upon a time, I suppose?”

“No, not that sort of story. The ones that only hurt, no happy ending, just loss and heartbreak and never ever being the same again?”

“Then, I guess you can begin with It was a dark and stormy night,” Jaskier suggested. “Touch?” Geralt watched Lambert nod and the two were clinging to each other.

It had been a clear night, summer, perfect, Geralt remembered. But this would be a better beginning for what followed. 

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Geralt said and watched all the muscles in Lambert tense, “The night when we became four.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember you love me


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the destruction of kaer morhen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i barely edited this, i just wanted it up. warnings for a battle that is a pogrom so lots of death of all ages.

It was rare that so many of the wolves were at Kaer Morhen in the summer, but they were bid home to celebrate. It was one of the rare cycles where four boys had survived all the trials and were to be named witchers. A cause of celebration for all. There had been hunting, and barrels of special ale brought out, an air of happiness that there seldom was at Kaer Morhen. Even the young students who had started the trials were allowed honey cakes and to stay up late to listen to the music. Geralt was seeing brothers he hadn’t seen in years.

Witchers didn’t feel emotions, but they were feeling them that day.

Geralt found himself sitting on the courtyard ledge with Eskel, watching the revelry as night fell. They passed a flagon back and forth and laughed as they saw Lambert talking to one of the new witchers. “He imparting advice?” Geralt shook his head. “He’s been on the path three years?”

“Five,” Eskel snorted a bit, “He knows everything there is to know about the path.”

Geralt remembered those days. And Lambert was the most recent witcher next to the new group. There had been another in between but he had fallen to a Leshen, taking one of those on before you are ready has been the downfall of many a man. “Were we that young?” Geralt looked at the new crop, and they seemed like children. 

“I think we were, but it was long enough ago now, that maybe we weren’t,” Eskel finished the flagon. “More?”

“Hmm,” Geralt nodded in agreement. 

He watched as the witchers who did the trials herded all the children and youth to their area of the keep as the celebrations grew more…raucous. More drink was poured, the music grew sultry and the vibe was definitely changing, as the celebration of becoming a witcher shifted. Eskel had pulled one of the new witchers close and was dancing with the lean omega. Lambert grabbed the other omega in the group and they were feeding each other. Geralt was moving through the crowd to see where he would fit that night, who needed caring. He had seen an old friend in the corner and started to approach when they all tensed.

They could all feel the magic.

Power.

Dark.

Hungry.

Righteous.

They were at home, safe. The most they had on them was daggers. They all heard the ripple of a portal. And Geralt knew it had been foolish to think a witcher ever had somewhere safe.

“Go! The armory, the hidden stashes. Eskel a group to the west wall,” Vesemir roared. “Lambert! Lambert where the fuck are you going?” Geralt could see Lambert running, and knew that the man was going for one of the hidden stock piles of bombs he had around the keep that he didn’t want the masters to know about. He signaled for a couple to follow Lambert as Vesemir shouted orders. He was still shouting when the fireball from a catapult tore into a wall of the keep and threw Vesemir and a few others back. 

Geralt ran to the armory and he was tossed two swords by their blacksmith. He was throwing everything in the stores at them. Geralt ran to the hole in the wall, and saw an army come through the portal. They were the wolf school. They didn’t have the magic of the griffins, the cunning of the cats. But what they had was each other. The pack. Always. He should probably say something to the four with him as they stared at thirty, who knew what was happening elsewhere. This was the line they had to hold. But all he did was snarl and run at the men gathered.

He didn’t let himself think, he just fought, protected his brothers, killed everyone in his path. They defeated the group in front of them and heard more catapults launch. They could hear the chant of magic. Screams of men, screams of wolves. He had had five with him and there were three now. “Potions, we need potions.”

“I’m fastest,” a fellow alpha said and ran back into the keep. 

Geralt looked at the other two with him. “We go into the woods there, circle behind that group.” They went, hunted. Killed and there was only one left next to Geralt. He looked up at the battlements and Eskel was directing arches using quen to protect them. There was no sign of their brother returning with potions. Geralt looked around, they were cutting through the men who had come, but they couldn’t hold the whole keep. “Retreat to the inner courtyard,” Geralt shouted. He let loose an animalistic cry that any other witchers in the field would hear and understand.

They ran through more holes in walls, Geralt cast aard to blast debris out of their way. They all gathered in the courtyard. Geralt did a count.

Their numbers were cut in half.

“Vesemir?” Geralt looked at him. The elders, none of them were there to guide them. Of course they weren’t, they were probably in their horrid laboratories, protecting their secrets, not the lives that were right in front of them. But of course their sword master was with them. “What do we do?”

“Wish Lambert hadn’t run away, the bastard. We could use his bombs right now,” Vesemir muttered. 

“I know where he hid them, turning the trials he uh -” One of the newest witchers ran and returned with a crate. “He said these weren’t field ready because they’d either do nothing, or do everything.”

Vesemir dug in. “Eight in there, let’s hope for at least 50/50.” He handed them out. “Luckily the other side too steep to scale. They want to come in they have to come in this way. “We fight in teams of three, one always swapping into the middle to cast and rest their arms for the fight.” It was a classic team formation and they all settled into it.

Fireballs were hitting the stone but it was holding. They could hear the ramming at the door. And then it went quiet.

Never had silence been more deafening. There was a scream from inside the keep. An older voice.

“They are in the labs,” Vesemir shouted. “Geralt lead a team in. They want us all to go to protect our secrets, swarm the front. One team in. No matter what, they cannot escape with whatever they are searching for in there.”

“Yes, sir,” Geralt said. He and his group went into the keep, and stopped to down healing and stamina potions. They ran to the labs, the workrooms.

They were all aflame, the elders dying to protect their secrets, not realizing until it was too late, those attacking didn’t want to take the secrets, they were there to destroy the wolves entirely.

“They are walking into the flames,” the omega next him smelled close to cracking. “Geralt they are -”

“Then we help them,” Geralt moved forward and attacked all the strangers in his path. His omega brethren dove in front of him, stopped a magic blast that would have killed Geralt, and at that point, Geralt didn’t need a potion to turn his eyes black. “This ends,” he roared in his full alpha strength and the couple of invaders left, dove into the magic fire rather than face an alpha that enraged. He looked to the beta next to him. “We need to stop the fires.”

“We have to go back to the battle. We don’t hold the walls we lose the keep.”

“If we don’t stop these fires, we don’t have a keep to hold onto.” Geralt didn’t curse as the man shook his head and went to the battle. He went into the workrooms. They had a pull for water. He just had to get through the flames to it. The smell of potions spilling from bottles cracking in the heat, the scent of flesh being burned away from muscle and bone filled his nose, and the smoke was so thick he almost couldn’t see. In a few moments the rooms would be too toxic for him to do anything. He just had to get to that switch. 

But he could. He began to choke. Geralt sank to the ground the air was a little better there. He met the eyes of the elder who had poisoned him, give him all the extra mutagens. There was not left of the man. But he was still alive. “The children,” he said and with a hand he reached out, cast quen around Geralt. The air cleared enough that he could see he had been right next to the pull. Geralt slammed it down and water coursed into the barrels along the wall, he cast aard and sent the water flying. The elder did as well and it ended enough of the fire that Geralt was able to go to the barrels and start throwing buckets directly at the flames. It was touch and go but the fires died. He looked around the rooms.

Equipment destroy, the walls of books nothing more than ash and all those who knew the secrets of them dead. It was a cairn now, he wondered for a moment if perhaps he was dead too, a ghost, but the pain on his arms where fire licked at him seemed real enough.

He could hear more shouts. The courtyard. He had to help. He had to believe there was still time to help. Geralt was running down the halls, and turned into the main hall. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the small bow on the table. A child’s bow. The elder had said, the children, and he hadn’t processed it. Geralt couldn’t stop staring at that bow as he heard the screams in the courtyard, the walls had been breached.

If they were here to destroy Kaer Morhen, “the children,” Geralt gasped. He turned and ran through the keep to the student ward. He crashed into the dorm room where the youngest all slept together, before their first trial.

The new witcher, the omega that Lambert had been feeding, had a dagger in his gut, he was holding in place with one hand, and still swinging his sword with the other. He would have been an incredible witcher.

No, he was an incredible witcher. An omega wolf that they had killed, the boy’s brain just not caught up with his body yet. Geralt snarled and dove in, the invaders dead in a moment. He caught the young man as he fell. “You were magnificent,” Geralt swore. He rubbed his nose along the man’s neck, scenting him, breathing him in. Letting him know he wouldn’t die alone. He’d die with his pack. “Where are the children?”

“Lambert, knew a way out of the keep, to the caves by the water. We could hear people coming. He was the better chance to protect them. I was buying th -em, thw time.” The man was choking on his blood. “Geralt, they’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course they will, you saved them,” Geralt said in his alpha voice, flooding the man’s senses. He was choking, dying painfully and Geralt snapped his neck. He stood and looked around the room. A way out. He had never wound one but he was not the sort to look for that, but of course Lambert had been. He opened his senses which was difficult, they were so full of blood, but he caught the scent of Lambert. Not this room, one over. Geralt went and found it. Under one of the beds there was a well hidden door. Almost seamless. He opened it and it was a tight fit. But it wasn’t meant for an adult, it was meant for youth who wanted a bit of an adventure away from elder’s eyes. He almost had to crawl the space so small, but he could smell Lambert, smell children, smell fear. And hope. 

The children had believed in Lambert. It probably wasn’t long but felt forever when he was in open air again. As he stood, he saw the west wall of the keep come down, and then it was that eerie quiet again. He could hear portals again, feel them no matter that they were far away. They were leaving. They believed they had done their job and were leaving. 

“No,” Geralt whispered, and then roared. He followed the scent in the air, down the treacherous path, could see the footprints in the ground. And then he heard screams, and the sounds of rocks. When he pushed through the trees, Geralt saw a portal and some of those men going through, the wolf pups in their heads. They were biting, clawing, trying to get away but were hit with magic and passed out. But it was only the youngest they were taking away, not ones who had survived the first trial. They weren’t to be seen, Lambert wasn’t to be seen. 

Geralt dove forward, ready to run through the portal, to get the children back, but he was blasted with magic, pushed back enough so that the portal could close. Geralt screamed in rage and despair. As far as he knew, he was now the last wolf. He could hear pebbles fall against rock. Geralt looked and saw the mouth of one of the small caves was covered in fallen rock. He couldn’t see the other young wolves, he couldn’t see Lambert. But he could see all that rock. 

He looked around him. There were flowers, leaves. He grabbed a few and when a drowner jumped out at him, Geralt tore through its throat with its teeth, beheaded it in his fury. He used drowner blood and eye as the craven ingredients the potion needed. It was crude and would likely kill him, but it would also make him strong. He could feel his adrenaline spiking, his muscles screaming. 

Geralt went to the rocks and began to move them. He went as fast as he dared, not wanting to cause more to fall, and he vomited over himself when he found the first body but never stopped working. He would move a body into pile and rocks a separate one. And then he heard it. Cursing, just the worst language ever in a light and smooth voice. “Lambert?” Geralt called and it stopped.

“No the king of Cintra!” it called back after a moment. “I can’t - I cant,” and there was silence again.

By the time he got the rock moved away, Lambert had passed out, from trying to create a pocket of air for the two he was with. Lambert had been so focused that he hadn’t realized one was dead. And Lambert didn’t look like he would make it. Geralt still was riding the potion high, was able to put the living boy over one shoulder, Lambert over the other and make his way back to the keep. When they died, they could at least all die together. Geralt stumbled the last few steps and curled up on the ground, wrapped himself around Lambert and the boy, protecting them, as Lambert had done everything he could to protect the children.

“It was a nice party,” Geralt said, and the darkness closed in on him, he was ready to die. 

*

“But you didn’t,” Jaskier was crying.

“No, but it was close, the ‘potion’ I had made was enough to even kill a witcher, not distilled drowner blood is not the best idea.”

“Also you had been stabbed a few times in the fights, had a broken rib, dislocated your shoulder carrying us,” Lambert filled in. Geralt saw him sitting up in the nest, leaning against the wall, casual in his nakedness, Jaskier giving him space. “The boy died two days later, never woke up. And I became the last link in a broken chain.” Lambert smiled and laughed a bit. “Geralt woke up a week later, shocked he woke up at all. And saw that he was the last alpha of Kaer Morhen. That there were only four of us left.”

“Vesemir wouldn’t let us help move the bodies,” Geralt remembered. “Said it was on him, that if he had trained us better, more would have survived. After he told us that he didn’t speak again for several weeks. We burned the bodies, and mourned. We were done. Broken.”

Geralt watched Jaskier wipe away his tears. He needed to touch his omega but Lambert needed the comfort more. “This is my fault. Storms remind you of the cave in, and you held quen as the rocks fell, and I asked you to do that. I am so sorry.” Geralt sank to his knees from the bed he was on, exposed his neck. “Forgive me.”

“It was Jaskier, not you that set it off.” Geralt heard the wound noise that Jaskier made and he lifted his head. Lambert was holding out his arms, and Jaskier dove in. “I haven’t nested with another omega, since then. Not wanted that companionship when I couldn’t have my brothers. I wanted you in here. But an omega cuddle in the walls of Kaer Morhen. It reminded me of what once. I was thinking of the piles of all of us, the warmth, the scents as I held you. And I dreamt of when it was good, and then when it all fell apart.” He kissed Jaskier’s head, and then nuzzled his neck. “But it was good Jaskier. It was good to nest with a brother again. I’d live through a hundred nightmares of that night, to snuggle with you.”

Jaskier curled as much as he could into Lambert and soon the two omegas were whispering and lost in a bubble together. They’d be fine. Geralt quietly left the room and went to the ramparts. Look and remembered every single spot their walls had crumbled. There were not stains but he could see every drop of blood. He was so lost in the memories that he didn’t even realize it was still storming, until Eskel came and wrapped him in a blanket. “What do you remember from that night?” Geralt asked. “What is the one thing that stands out most to you?”

“The smells, the feeling when I couldn’t cast signs anymore, the thing I was best at but was so burned out, I didn’t know if I lived if I would ever cast again.”

“We lost everything.”

“Wolf, is that what you think?” Eskel turned him and cupped his face. “We won?”

“How?” Geralt pressed his forehead to Eskel’s. “How?”

“Because they wanted to destroy the wolf school. And four of us still stand.”

“A slow destruction, they win eventually.”

“But eventually is not today.” Eskel nuzzled his neck. “Come on.” Geralt let himself be guided in, and tucked into his bed. When Eskel went to leave, Geralt pulled him, and they wrapped around each other. In a bit the door opened and Lamber and Jaskier were there. They slid into the bed, Jaskier moving so that he was wrapped around the back of Geralt. Geralt breathed in the scent of his omega, of Lambert. Neither smelled distressed anymore.

“Eskel thinks we won,” Geralt said.

“That is fucking stupid, we got our asses kicked,” Lambert replied. “But…we endured. And that is something isn’t it?”

“It is a lot,” Jaskier said. He began to sing, and they all slept, peaceful as the snow no that was no longer storming but falling gently from the sky.


	14. Chapter 14

“Heinrich, I know they are all in there, let me in.”

“Come on Heinrich, I fed you those drowners,” Lambert hissed, “be a pal.”

Eskel sunk under the water as if he could magically stay under long enough for Jaskier not to notice him. Vesemir just sighed. “Heinrich, let the cub in,” Vesemir suggested and the vines slowly stopped blocking the passage through. “We could only hide for so long.”

“We could have hid longer,” Lambert insisted.

“Hidden from what your feelings? You’ve done that for decades and I am here to fix that,” Jaskier insisted. He came through, stripped and was in the pool in a moment. He screamed when Eskel emerged gasping for air. “Touch,” Jaskier ordered and they all moved to the other end of the pool away from him. Jaskier stared at them in shock. “Touch?” he asked and whimpered a bit. 

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned and started to move towards him, hating the sadness. Lambert’s arms clasped around him.

“You have to tell him,” Lambert said as he held the alpha back. 

Jaskier was looking increasingly distressed that none of them were coming closer. “What did I do wrong?” he asked and he couldn’t stop his eyes from dimming, it made them all see how much he had been shining in the last couple weeks.

Geralt grunted as Lambert pushed past him, and started nuzzling Jaskier. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Lambert said against Jaskier’s neck. “But you were getting so much.”

“I am making it better!”

“Jaskier,” Eskel sighed, and swam over as well. “You can’t make this better.”

“Fucking watch me,” Jaskier tried to growl. “You are making me better, I don’t feel useless. So I am going to fix it all here! No more hidden nightmares for Lambert, and no more hiding the pain for Eskel and Vesemir. No more thinking you have to carry everything Geralt, so much so that the others hide things.”

“Well, he has us all figured out,” Vesemir muttered. He swam over as well. “Jaskier, are you trying to make us feel better because you truly want us to feel better, or because you are so determined to be useful that we won’t abandon you?” They all saw Jaskier’s flinch. “Omega, we will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it. You are home. Always.” Vesemir pressed a kiss to his brow, “I thank you, but my heart is heavier than it was once, but it is not broken.”

Geralt smiled a bit as Jaskier threw his arms around Vesemir and clung. He nuzzled in, scented Vesemir trying to see if the man was honest. Which he was. He had been on the path so long, that while it had almost destroyed him, he had also recovered the swiftest, dealing with his feelings by taking care of the three pups left once they let him. Vesemir kissed Jaskier’s temple and tried to extricate himself, but Jaskier was still clinging. “A little help someone?” Vesemir asked and Eskel tried but Jaskier was just clinging harder.

Geralt finally moved over to Jaskier, until the bardling was snuggled between Geralt and Vesemir. “Shh,” Geralt soothed and ran his nose along the mating side of Jaskier’s neck. “I need you omega,” he said against skin and Jaskier immediately switched who he was clinging to, and for a moment Geralt couldn’t breathe the grip was so damn tight. “Fuck,” he groaned and sank into the water for a moment. He popped them both up. “Could we have a moment?”

“Not done washing my balls yet,” Lambert said just to be contrary as he if hadn’t lead the hide from Jaskier run to the hot springs. When Vesemir scruffed him lightly though, he didn’t object and soon it was just Geralt and Jaskier in the room. And Heinrich, but his comprehension of the conversation that was about to happen was probably limited. Geralt thought to the days after the devastation, when Heinrich held them up in the water when their hearts were too heavy and they couldn’t keep afloat weren’t sure they wanted to. So maybe he understood more than the wolves realized. But those were thoughts for another day.

Geralt eased over to one of the rock formations that served as a bench in the water. He sat down, and Jaskier was still clinging to him. “Oh, Jaskier,” Geralt said softly and Jaskier just hugged him tighter. “I am fine.”

“No you aren’t. You have a lot of problems.”

“I do?”

“Well you are almost a hundred, anyone that old has problems.”

Geralt chuckled a bit. “I suppose that is fair.” He let Jaskier cling. “Jaskier, you are trying to mend something that has long since healed over.”

“When something heals wrong, you sometimes have to rebreak the injury so it can heal properly.”

“True,” Geralt wished Eskel was there, he’d be able to say it so much better. “But Vesemir was right. You aren’t healing us, you want to break us so that you can be the one to heal us.” When Jaskier went to swim away, unbearably hurt, Geralt didn’t let him get very far, just so there was a bit of space between them. “Jaskier, can you listen to me? You listened to me so well about how much we hurt, how much we lost, can you listen to me now?” The was a small nod and Geralt let Jaskier go. Jaskier floated over to the over side of the pool and his hair was clinging to his forehead. “Your hair is getting long.”

“I like it,” Jaskier gave him when Geralt thought was supposed to be an intimidating look. “I’m not cutting it.”

Geralt just shrugged, he was the last person who could comment on the length of someone’s hair. “It looks good,” he said quietly. “We were not fine, not for a long time. We never had seen each other constantly, but you’d run into a wolf on the path, do a job together. When you returned for a rest, there were class to teach, also noise. It was so quiet those first few years. And we were…licking our wounds I guess - all feeling that we had failed. Vesemir didn’t train us enough, Eskel burned his signs out, Lambert couldn’t save the children. I was the strongest alpha, all I ever wanted was to protect, and I couldn’t. We had failed each other so we turned away.”

“What changed?”

“Lambert finally had a heat again.” Geralt closed his eyes, and leaned back against the rim of the tub. “And it was a fucking nightmare. Heats used to be…communal.”

“I don’t understand,” Jaskier frowned, “Is this one of those old traditions things?”

“No, it was more a we are wolves, pack thing. No omega ever went into heat alone, always two or three at the same time. They’d nest together, and we’d put them in their heat jewelry and it was well, it was an orgy Jaskier.” Geralt couldn’t tell at first if the flush on Jaskier’s cheek was embarrassment or the water but the scent that rose from the omega told all the story that was needed.

“So you and Lambert have had…you’ve bedded,” Jaskier hunched in a bit.

“We don’t know. Orgy, heady on the scent of several omegas in heat, which would trigger rut in a few alphas. We cannot breed but the imperatives are still there. I probably have but we can’t be certain and we don’t pull at those memories too much.” Geralt left the water to get some soap. He began to scrub himself. “But imagine that, you were used to the companionship of other omegas to cuddle and preen with while an alpha was knotted in you, played with each others jewelry while your every whim was served, the betas sucking your cock while you were knotted, bathing you in fresh water. It was luxurious. And he was left with just Eskel and I.”

“Not Vesemir?” 

“Not for the group, if an omega wanted a single companion or didn’t want an alpha, they knew Vesemir would see them through.” Geralt smirked a bit. “Worried the old wolf wasn’t getting any? Trust me, he always finds free and willing companionship on the path. Pulls the best of all of us.”

“Isn’t he…how old is he?”

“Old as fuck, but that doesn’t really matter if you are clever with your mouth and your cock.” Geralt handed Jaskier the soap. “And rumour has it, he is.” Geralt settled back onto the bench. “Lambert refused the jewelry. He swore he could go through it alone, because that is what we all were now wasn’t it? Alone.” Geralt was lost in the memories. “He was screaming in pain. In memory. And Eskel threw together this abysmal nest, stripped Lambert down, we all did and we crawled in. I think, I think it was the first time any of us had been touched in years and we broke, all of us. Finally dealt with it. We were a mess, and Lambert was just coherent enough to beg me not to knot him no matter how much later he would demand it. Eskel was able to keep the worst of the pain away with axii, and at one point we had a goddamn wine bottle jammed up his ass to help him cope.”

Jaskier came close again with his arms open and Geralt nodded, it was a less desperate embrace this time. “We healed through that heat, started to. Realized we were small but not alone. We aren’t who we were before, we couldn’t be. But we did heal.”

“He’s been hiding nightmares from you.”

“He’s Lambert, he’s an asshole and allowed to have some privacy of thought.”

“You would have taken care of him though.”

“In a minute and he knew that, and clearly didn’t want it.” Geralt stroked Jaskier’s hair off his face. “He took up making the books for me, when they remembered how hard reading was for me. And I made sure his sword would survive another year because he is crap at weapon’s maintenance. I gardened with Eskel, he began to train again with us. We let Vesemir feed us again in the dining hall as a family. He trusted us to hear him on the days the weight of his years made him unable to bear words. We became a different pack.”

“It still hurts.”

“It does.”

“I was making it hurt more.”

Geralt had to kiss his temple. “In a very unintentional way, one that was kind.” 

“My pain is still new,” Jaskier said softly. “I stare at that lute case in my room, know what is inside. I know a lute is fuck all in comparison to what you went through -”

“It hurt your soul, they destroy a fundamental part of who you are,” Geralt said. There was a nod and he cupped Jaskier’s cheek. “The sentiment, the hurt is the same even if the scale is different.” 

“I just wish I had someone who tried to take the hurt away,” Jaskier whispered. “Like you have with each other.”

“You have it,” Geralt replied, and this time it was he who had the punishing grip. “We’re right fucking here, Jaskier, and we know a lot about rebuilding yourself, healing.” Heinrich reached out along the stone and sort of attached to Jaskier’s shoulder. Once it was clear he was trying to suck blood and not offer comfort, Geralt nudged the vine away. There was a red mark left on Jaskier’s skin, and it made Geralt growl.

Jaskier should only carry his mark. Geralt for a moment couldn’t stop himself and furiously licked at those red marks, to imprint himself over top them. He licked and nuzzled the skin. “I’m here, I’m here,” he repeated again and again. Geralt looked at Jaskier and his eyes were huge and shining in the light that Heinrich’s flowers gave off, tears almost about to fall. Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I’m here. I could be here. I could -” He ran his nose along Jaskier’s jaw. “Let me, I could, I swear I could.”

His nose ran along Jaskier’s cheekbone, over brow and back so they nuzzled again. “I could,” Geralt promised. He ran his nose along Jaskier’s lower lip, and then when Jaskier didn’t pull away, Geralt kissed Jaskier. It started as a simple press a comfort, but Jaskier had gasped and it opened his mouth, and Geralt took. He needed, he wanted, and all that soft and potential, that scent that was angry and joyful pressed against him. He slanted his mouth at a better angle and hesitantly Jaskier’s mouth began to move under his. There was another gasp as Geralt pressed his tongue into Jaskier’s mouth, tasted him.

He tasted like mouth generally tasted, Geralt had never understood the songs that said a person tasted like heaven and sweetness and stars. He tasted like spit. And Geralt started to laugh, he couldn’t help himself and pulled back a bit. “Sorry, random thought.”

“Of what?”

“Poetry.” There was another of those gasps but this one was clearly happy. 

“I made you think of poetry?”

Shit, he should lie to the young man. “I thought about how I don’t have a poetic bone in my body, because to me, you tasted like spit.” Jaskier’s body shook against him as the man laughed and Geralt happily held him. He stroked his hand up and down Jaskier’s back. “You can heal me, when I am injured, when I have one of my headaches, when I am frustrated because I want to read with you and Eskel in the library and cannot. Heal those. Heal when Lambert has a nightmare, when Eskel is awake at night with a bottle in hand and just staring at the fire. When Vesemir needs someone to lean on. You can’t heal the purge, Jaskier, whatever of that was going to heal has. And we are content.”

“I have to ask, did you ever, did you try to find the taken children?”

“No, we couldn’t have even begun to figure out where to look.” Geralt pressed a hand to the small of Jaskier’s back. “And we know well enough they weren’t alive to be found.”

There was a nod. “I understand,” Jaskier looked up at him. “If I can do all that, could you -” he cut himself off as if he was too scared to ask for what he wanted.

“I could,” Geralt swore.

“Kiss me again,” Jaskier requested, and Geralt pressed his mouth to Jaskier’s again. They stayed in the water for a bit, lost in the hug and exchanging kisses, until the ache of having Jaskier in his arms grew a bit too much. 

“We should dry off,” Geralt said. “Head back into the keep.” He was a bit hard not much, and tried to angle his body so as to not offend Jaskier. He tried off and he heard a splash as Jaskier rose from the pool as well.

When they were ready they headed towards the stairs, Jaskier giving Heinrich a nice little pat. Geralt flicked the vines when they reached to maybe claim a finger. That night at dinner, it was more relaxed, Jaskier was constantly touching all of them, but it was casual. It was warm and friendly, not overwhelming. As he stood to get more bread he squeezed Vesemir’s shoulder as he went by, kissed Eskel’s head. When he returned he hip nudged Lambert. They weren’t feeling suffocated, they were feeling cared for, loved. 

“Nest tonight?” Lambert asked, and Jaskier had been avoiding it, so scared of triggering another nightmare.

“Yeah, Geralt’s been snoring in his bed, driving me spare, happy to snuggle in the nest,” Jaskier agreed and the whole table lightened even more. Geralt gave Eskel and Vesemir a look and they both gave a small nod of acknowledge. There was some cards, and Geralt paid out to Eskel, Jaskier sang a little and then he and Lambert went to Lambert’s room.

Geralt had to wait until he was sure they were asleep. He sneaked into Jaskier’s room and found the lute case under the bed. 

He took it down to the hall where Eskel and Vesemir were waiting, some extra weapons at the ready.

Geralt carefully put the case on the table and opened it. The destruction had been cleaned up a bit, but the pieces were all there. “We have to fix this,” Geralt said. He looked at them. “He deserves to be whole.”

“Shit,” Vesemir took the parts out. “It’s all going to be guessing, pup.”

“Might be some books in the library?” Eskel sounded doubtful. “I don’t know if we can.”

“I told him, I could help him heal,” Geralt stared at the pieces. “I promised.”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Vesemir swore. “First step, find how all the pieces fit together.”

They stayed up for hours, Eskel sketching plans, Vesemir muttering ideas, Geralt’s hands delicate as he held the broken instrument.

He could.

And he would.


	15. Chapter 15

Geralt was crouched low on the ramparts, ready waiting. Projectiles were beside him, he was ready for the attack. The spot would not be taken. There was a flag behind him, and he must protect it with his life. He would die for the flag. He picked up his weapon, ready to throw it as the intruder made a move below, running from behind the wagon towards the tree. He quickly stood and released his weapon.

“Oh, fuck,” he shouted as Jaskier went running across to leap on Lambert’s back and got a face full of snowball meant for Lambert. He had thrown it at full force, because he wanted to fuck up Lambert and win the training exercise, which meant that Jaskier was knocked to the ground. “Fucccck,” Geralt shouted and didn’t care, just leapt off the rampart and rolled as he hit the ground. He slid and was next to Jaskier on the ground in four breaths. “Lambert, get the fuck out of my way,” he didn’t think and used full alpha voice in his panic. His snowball had knocked Jaskier out, he wasn’t responding. Fuck, he may have murdered his mate with a snowball.

Geralt growled and Lambert backed off, hopefully to get Vesemir. Geralt nuzzled at Jaskier’s scent, hoped that maybe scenting would wake the omega, and he kept apologizing over and over again. He brushed the snow away from Jaskier’s face, the flakes that were melting on his lashes. He nuzzled and scented some more. “Jaskier, Jaskier, please I am sorry.” 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was thinner, reedy, and it made Geralt ache. “Alpha, I can’t see.”

“Fuck, I blinded you, oh Freya, forgive me. Fuck, Jaskier no no no,” Geralt couldn’t stand the scent of himself -- he was pouring out so much distress. 

“Help me sit up,” Jaskier pleaded and Geralt sat him up, moved behind him to act as a support. He wrapped his arms around Jaskier, buried his nose against where he hoped one day to lay a proper mating mark. “I can see…I can almost see…”

“See what?” Maybe he wasn’t completely blind, if he could make out a little, they could call to a mage and -

“I can see Lambert stealing your flag, just like we planned,” Jaskier said in his normal voice, and started giggling.

Geralt’s eyes widened and he looked up. Lambert had Geralt’s flag. “What,” his voice was flat, hard. He watched Lambert blow his nose on the flag. “I thought I hurt you.”

“Oh, you did, hardest snowball I ever took,” Jaskier agreed, “But didn’t knock me out, it was a damn snowball Geralt. Even thrown by a witcher how was it going to knock me out?”

“You two planned this?”

“Apparently your moves are easy to predict, you should probably work on that,” Jaskier smiled at him and Geralt growled.

“You are married to me, shouldn’t you be on my side?”

Jaskier pouted at him. “You told me it was a serious training exercise, and dangerous, so I should stay inside! Then Lambert told me it was a snowball fight. I wanted to play too, dammit. Snow is fun. And he agreed, so we plotted against you. And won. Muahahahahaha!”

“You’ve practiced that laugh haven’t you?” Geralt should hold onto his anger, he really should, but Jaskier looked so damn pleased at the trickery, and playing. “You could have been hurt.”

“I could have had fun.”

“Music and books are your fun.”

“Geralt, I can have lots of sorts of fun, if you just would let me.”

There was a weight in those words that he didn’t understand. “Jaskier?”

“Nothing,” Jaskier stood up. “Guess I’ll go back inside, leave you to your training exercise.”

Geralt didn’t like how his eyes dimmed at that. “Eskel’s flag is still up for grabs. We could all work together?” he suggested and he went still when Jaskier leaned in and nuzzled the mate side of his neck. He did lean into it for a moment before Lambert came down to them. They plotted carefully, and then attacked. With the three of them they were able to take Eskel’s flag, and then just a general snow ball fight broke out. Geralt found himself picking up Jaskier and gently tossing him into a snow bank. There was a giggle from the snow that was the most adorable noise ever.

“If you track all that into my hall, I will wallop you,” a shout came from the main doors. “Soup and mulled cider are ready for you pups, if you want to warm up.”

Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the snowbank and they were all laughing as they went just inside the main hall. A basket was pointedly waiting, and a pile of furs next to it. Geralt stripped down, tossed all his wet clothes into the basket, so did Eskel and Lambert. But Jaskier wasn’t. “Jaskier?”

“Just naked in the main hall?” He was very pointedly looking at the ceiling.

“You’ve see our dicks in the springs,” Lambert offered. 

“It is the main hall! There are no dicks just out in the main hall, it is…is…unseemly,” Jaskier insisted. He scowled as they all laughed. Geralt grabbed one of the furs and wrapped it around his waist.

“There you go, no cock just out,” Geralt soothed. Eskel wrapped up as well. But of course Lambert didn’t. “Lambert,” he chided.

“We nest naked all the damn time together, why is my dick in the main hall a problem?” Lambert crossed his arms and scowled at them.

“Because he is asking you too,” Geralt replied firmly. “And if you don’t put a fur on, I will put it on you.”

“They are the itchy ones,” Lambert growled and Geralt growled back. “Fine,” Lambert snapped. “I hate these furs.”

“That fur is from your bed,” Jaskier said. He was undressing and they all turned their backs politely. Geralt choked on his breath as Jaskier said excuse me and walked by them completely nude. He stared at that swaying ass. “I’m not a barbarian, hardly going to just walk about in furs when I have perfectly reasonable breeches in my room.” Geralt growled low and deep at the sight of that sweetly curved ass swaying as he walked by, the dark wisps of hair at the small of his back, that perfect curve where Geralt could rest a hand while he fucked into his mate. Geralt started to follow but then stopped.

Jaskier was being sassy, free in a way he never could be at home, it didn’t mean anything. Geralt shook himself like a wet dog and wet to the table. As he was sitting down he yelped. Geralt looked at his arm in shock. “You stabbed me!”

Lambert smiled. “You told me to, weeks ago. So that he would take care of you? Stabbed.”

Geralt looked around. “Where did you even get the knife?”

“It was in my clothes, you weren’t paying attention.” Lambert gave another light slash. “There you go, double stabbed, double the care. Now shoo. Might get there while he is still naked and in his rush to care for you, stays naked.”

Shit, that was a good point. “Hugging you,” Geralt warned and gave a kick nuzzle to Lambert’s neck and then ran for their rooms so quickly that he over shot and slid passed the door. He whined just a little when he stormed into his room and Jaskier came out of his wearing breeches, but they were hanging loose and his chemise was in his hands. “I was stabbed.” Geralt pointed at his arm. “Hurts.” It didn’t they were super shallow cuts, but still. “Twice, he stabbed me twice.”

“Did you deserve it?”

“No, he just up and stabbed me,” Geralt pouted. “Why would you think I deserved it?”

“I don’t know, he is just clearly getting ready to settle into a mood, being grumpy about his own furs. Which he shouldn’t be grumpy, we kicked your ass, but sometimes he just has moods. Which you would know even better than I have figured out in two months with you. So, did you get in his way?”

“I swear I was just sitting down to eat, and stabbed. Twice.” Geralt made sure to point at the double wounds on his arm again. “No, you are right though, I probably did deserve it, I’ll take care of it myself.”

“No!” Jaskier shouted and Geralt made sure not to smile in victory. Jaskier guided him to the chair and he sat down. Jaskier poured water from the pitcher on the table, grabbed a cloth and gently cleaned the wounds. “Hmm, these barely broke the skin. Would have assumed a Lambert stabbing would do a bit more damage. These are even lighter than the first one on the road.”

“Well, if he stabbed me too hard, you would worry a bit too much. Had to be precise to get the right sort of care.” Geralt smiled at him. “That was the plan.” His voice trailed off on the last word as he realized he was saying far too much, lost in staring at Jaskier’s chest, at the way the breeches kept sinking lower since they weren’t tied.

“Plan?” Jaskier stopped cleaning the stab wounds and looked at him. “Did you plan that Lambert would stab you?”

“I mean, he is always willing to stab me?” Geralt pointed out, “and it was not specifically said stab me right now. He absolutely surprised me with the stabbing.”

“But?” Jaskier was scowling at him, and that natural angry scent that Geralt loved was rising.

“But after you tended to my wounds when we first got here, I maybe asked Lambert and Eskel to stab me at some point so you would take care of me again. I like when you touch me.” Geralt watched Jaskier, confused at the face he was making. “What?”

“Geralt,” Jaskier shook his head. “You sweet fool. Touch.” Geralt immediately hugged Jaskier, scented him. He was pushed at though and let go immediately.

“You said touch.” Geralt frowned. “That means touch you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier held up his hands. “Touch.” Geralt reached to touch and the hands were pulled away. Geralt was still. “Touch,” Jaskier looked at him waited. “Both ways,” he added.

Geralt understand. “Jaskier, touch,” he whispered and immediately Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his torso, mindful of the cuts on his arm. Geralt was being hugged and Jaskier was pressing kisses, little kitten licks against his chest. Geralt started to purr and that increased the squeeze of the hug, the way that Jaskier’s mouth moved on his skin. There was a lick at his nipple and the purrs increased. “Jaskier,” he growled. Which lead to a bit of a bite and Geralt learned he could growl and purr at the same time. He was hesitant at first, but then put his hand at the small of Jaskier’s back, the fine hairs there soft against his palm, the skin even more so.

His breeches were loose and fallen enough that Geralt stretched his fingers a bit, his pinkie was on the swell of Jaskier’s ass. He wanted to grab, to haul Jaskier even closer. But he didn’t, just spread and closed his fingers over that spot that seemed made to hold his hand. When Jaskier tilted his head up, Geralt tilted down and kissed him. Their mouths both opened and Geralt’s tongue pressed in, and he still tasted like mouth. He was getting addicted to that non taste, especially when Jaskier’s scent of happiness filled his nose.

Every stroke of his tongue, every stretch of his fingers against that soft skin, made Jaskier smell happy and slowly aroused. “Jaskier?” Geralt asked when they pulled apart.

“Yes?” He sounded breathless, eager. 

“I am still actually bleeding a bit,” Geralt looked down at his arm, “and it is getting on the chair.”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier cursed and the moment was broken. Geralt’s hand felt cold when it left the small of Jaskier’s back and he flexed his fingers, made a fist as if that would keep the warmth of Jaskier’s skin close. Jaskier finished cleaning the wounds and carefully bandaged them. Geralt couldn’t help but gasp when Jaskier pressed a few kisses to the bandages. “Will help it heal quicker,” he explained, “a governess, the one nice one I had told me that.”

“Well, omega saliva can act as a healing agent for an alpha’s wounds,” Geralt replied. “So that makes sense.”

“Wait, really?”

Geralt frowned at him. “Yes? Didn’t you know this?”

“No, spit cannot heal wounds, that is an old wives tale,” Jaskier stopped and thought about it. “Or is it?” He got that look in his eyes, the one that Geralt recognized as his I want to gain knowledge look. Jaskier picked up his shirt and threw it on. “Be in the library,” he said and ran out the hall. Geralt shook his head, and put trousers on, not bothering with a shirt as he went to the main hall. The others were still there, though Eskel and Vesemir looked frustrated, and Lambert was glaring.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, fuck off,” Lambert snapped and stalked away from the table, ripping off the fur as he went. “And this isn’t mine, I know that because it is itchy.” He threw it behind himself and went to his rooms naked.

Geralt looked at them. “Three days?” he guessed.

Eskel nodded. “About that,” he agreed. “Going to be different this year.”

“I’ll make sure there his favourite foods ready,” Vesemir sighed, “I wish he didn’t refuse jewelry, it would make it a lot easier if he let himself be ground like that.”

“I know, but we’ll take care of him, as much as he lets us. Eskel, Jaskier is in research mode, go keep him company, and bring him some food?” Geralt asked, and Eskel nodded easily, as he loved being in the library with Jaskier, the discussions the lively. Geralt ate and Vesemir was silent. “What?”

“When is Jaskier’s heat due?” Vesemir was blunt, which Geralt appreciated, it was why he had been lingering, wanting to talk about this with Vesemir.

“I am not sure. He has been vague about it, when I tried to ask, I don’t think he wants to mention it because he doesn’t want us to mate.”

“That’s bullshit, but we’ll set it aside for right now. I don’t know whether Lambert will reject Jaskier’s presence, or need him desperately. Are you prepared for either?” Vesemir moved over and put an arm around him. Geralt leaned into the touch. “If Lambert needs Jaskier, are you fine with that? With everything it might entail?”

Geralt breathed in Vesemir’s calm and slightly woodsy scent, a quiet scent of an aged beta, and it soothed him, centered his mind. “Whatever makes it not hurt for Lambert, that is all I want. I do…I just want my pack not to hurt.” A kiss was pressed to his temple and Geralt let the happy rumble roll through his chest. “I just want to serve them, make them feel cherished, in however which way they let me.”

“How do you feel about Jaskier pup, truly feel?”

“I want him to be happy,” Geralt said. “I want him to be happy with me. Because he makes me so damn happy. His eyes, the way words just spill out of him, the way he smells. I want to be surrounded by it always. I want to know I made him happy.”

“You do,” Vesemir reassured. “I’m going to get the heat potions ready for Lambert, want to help?”

Geralt wasn’t the best at potions, but they helped his pack, so he was eager to lend aid. They went to the workroom and prepared things and the day was quiet. He was slowly reading one of the books that Lambert had made for him, near the fire when Jaskier stormed into the room.

“He didn’t want to nest! Wouldn’t even open the door, what the fuck Geralt? Why is Lambert such a…tit today. An absolute tit?” Jaskier was pacing and muttering about wanting cuddles because it was a cold night and witchers ran warm.

“You could share my bed tonight,” Geralt offered quietly, more quietly than he expected.

“Geralt, when I say cuddles, I do sort of mean it? And I know you need space. I hear you pacing at night.”

“I could hold you all night long,” Geralt swore. When Jaskier touched the book in his hands, Geralt let go. His arms then went around Jaskier, as the omega settled in his lap. He purred quietly as Jaskier read to him. He enjoyed the way Jaskier’s cheeks flushed as he read the love scene out loud, and his breath hitched once or twice. Geralt pressed his hand to the small of Jaskier’s back, to his spot on Jaskier’s skin. How he longed to call it his spot. Jaskier finished the love scene and yawned. “To bed?” Geralt suggested.

Jaskier nodded and went to his room, returned in his sleep trousers, Geralt was in his small clothes. He got into the bed first and Jaskier slid in, hesitant. “Touch,” Geralt said his arms open. In an instant, Jaskier was draped over him, his face buried against the left side of Geralt’s neck. Geralt’s hand again in the small of his back, and Jaskier sucked on the skin there, was clearly breathing in the alpha scent. Comforting himself. “What’s wrong?”

“Did I fuck up the game this morning, is that why Lambert doesn’t want me?” Jaskier went back to soothing himself by sucking at Geralt’s skin, and Geralt would let Jaskier cover him in a million marks if it soothed him.

“No, he always gets grumpy…grumpier before his heat. Restless, angry at being at the mercy of his body,” Geralt explained. “The itchy thrum under the skin drives him crazy. He wishes that it would just crash in like a sudden storm versus the slowly building feelings of it.”

“Oh,” Jaskier sat up a little on Geralt’s chest and looked down at him, “What is going to happen?”

“I don’t know, not with you here,” Geralt admitted, “But he is our pack, what he asks of us we provide, what he doesn’t ask for we respect. No matter how we wish to make it better.” He was relieved when Jaskier nodded. “Do you understand?”

“No, not really, I don’t think I’ll fully understand until whatever happens happens,” Jaskier crossed his arms on Geralt’s chest and pillowed his head on them. “My heat is due next month,” he whispered. “What will happen then?”

“Whatever you ask for you will be given, whatever you don’t ask for will be respected,” Geralt swore.

“I don’t want the first time you bed me, to be in my heat,” Jaskier said. “But not yet?”

Geralt pressed his hand to that perfect spot. His fingers stretched, rested a bit on the curve of Jaskier’s ass. When Jaskier smelled happy, Geralt stroked down, over top the sleep trousers, squeezed that rounded muscle and moved his hand back to the small of Jaskier’s back. “I am at your will,” he said.

Jaskier seemed to have settled in on top of Geralt and was clearly drifting off. "You make me happy," he said, and Geralt realized Jaskier had overheard a bit of his and Vesemir's talk. "Be happier if you touched my dick. But Lambert is only on slut lesson two with me, haven't gotten to where I learn how to seduce you that far. Shirtless works though, like he said. That's nice. Happy Geralt. Happy me." There was a yawn and Jaskier fell asleep on his chest, and Geralt never let go.

He didn't sleep a fucking wink that night, so it was easy to not let go.


	16. Chapter 16

“Is it always like this?” Jaskier was curled up in Geralt’s lap and pouting.

“No, this has been worse,” Geralt replied, and pressed his hand to the small of Jaskier’s back. He would have loved to have it on the bare skin but they were in the library, mainly because right before his heat it wasn’t a space that Lambert went to, the dust in the room bothered him too much.

They were hiding, and Geralt had no problems admitting it.

“Why?” Jaskier asked. He had a book in his lap, but he wasn’t reading. “Wouldn’t it help having me in there?”

“Probably, but you are forgetting a really important point, Jaskier,” Geralt smiled at him.

“That he is dealing with trauma and loss, and I have to respect those healed wounds, even if I want to help, how I want to help may actually make things worse.” Jaskier heaved a sigh that would have moved curtains if they had any.

“While that is true, no I meant that you have to remember beyond anything else, Lambert is an asshole. And his upcoming heat just ramps up that jackassery.” Geralt enjoyed the small chuckle that got. “He is always territorial right before a heat, we often don’t see him until he shouts with need. And then I go running and do what I can. What is allowed.”

“So he is confused? Because not a witcher omega?” Jaskier was clearly trying to make sense of the a situation that had very little sense.

“I don’t know, see that would require him talking to us for more than ‘will you just fuck off and leave me alone you fucking useless pricks’?”

“I’ve felt your prick when we kiss, doesn’t seem useless,” Jaskier declared with a smirk, and then flushed bright red and making such a statement.

Geralt kissed him and nuzzled his neck. “You are adorable.” It was the truth.

“Being bolder in my language was one of my lessons before he got all grr,” Jaskier made a grumpy face, “I am a lone wolf and need no aid or succor.” It was a fair Lambert impression all in all, Geralt had to admit. “I used to flirt, a lot at Oxenfurt,” Jaskier nodded to prove his sincerity. “Was quite good at it, actually.”

Geralt easily picked up Jaskier off his lap and set him on the table. Jaskier’s feet settled on the chair, bracketed Geralt’s thighs. Geralt wrapped his hands around Jaskier’s ankles. “Were you?” He raised a brow and smiled up at the omega. “Really?”

“Got those three people to fuck me didn’t I?” Jaskier pouted at him. “Don’t believe me?”

“I am not sure. Perhaps you should flirt with me, right now so I can assess your skills,” Geralt suggested and rubbed at the back of Jaskier’s ankles. For a moment his mind reminded him a slice there would hobble a man for life. Jaskier was strong, but ankle bones always felt so delicate under hand. “How would you gain someone’s attention?”

“I’d usually be oh so casually in the courtyard and singing, either something traditional to show my range to impress, or a jaunty little tavern ditty, to show that I was fun and up for a good time.”

“Which will you sing for me?” Geralt sank back into the chair. “Impress me, or let me know you want a good time?” He moved his hands a little more so that he was rubbing Jaskier’s calves along with the back of his ankles. Up and down, waiting. Jaskier met his gaze and began to sing.

It was different than what he sang around the keep. It was deeper, slow, and sad. It was a call to arms song, Geralt recognized it when he reached the chorus, a call for honour and duty, even knowing that you likely would never make it home again. It hurt in the most beautiful way possible. “I am impressed,” Geralt said when the last note finally stopped hanging in the air. 

“Impressed enough for a kiss?” Jaskier asked with an eager smile on his face. “A kiss from you is worth more than any money you might offer in thanks for such a song.”

“Very clever,” Geralt replied and leaned back in his chair. “But I don’t know if I am so impressed as all that.” He stroked those calves when Jaskier’s face fell and his scent dove. “Jaskier, I am asking to hear you more.”

“Oh,” the smile that earned him had Geralt purring. Jaskier sang a happy tune next, something light and airy and it made Geralt laugh. There were a few more songs, and Jaskier’s eyes were shining brilliantly. 

The door slammed open and Lambert growled at them. He was pale and his eyes were hollow. “Will you shut the fuck up! I am trying to cope, and your bleating is really fucking annoying.”

Jaskier’s eyes dimmed and he went quiet.

Geralt stood up and growled. “Lambert,” he didn’t use his alpha voice but it was close. “You need to be careful, unless you are looking for a fight.” Which he might have been, there was always a point pre heat where Lambert challenged them, and there was a bit of a scrap. 

“What if I am?” Lambert snarled and stalked forward. He pushed Geralt a bit. “Oh big alpha think he can take me?”

“I know I can,” Geralt snarled, “But never like that.” They stared at each other and something in Lambert’s eyes softened for just a moment the reassurance of Geralt’s long ago promises. “Courtyard?”

Lambert just snarled and stalked off.

Geralt’s shoulders slumped, “His heat will hit tomorrow at the latest, this is his last gasp of energy and it will be hard one.”

“You thought it would happen a few days ago,” Jaskier was still sitting on the table. “Jewelry would help him.”

“He likely sold or destroyed it all.” Geralt rubbed a hand over his heart, because that always hurt that Lambert had destroyed what had been collected over decades, centuries. And it hurt because it meant Lambert always hurt during his heat, more than he needed to. But he had his reasons, that he had never fully explained and they hadn’t pressed. “I need to go fight him.”

“Do you?”

“He’ll be worse if I don’t. There is always a fight, and then Vesemir takes him to the springs, to clean him up, his last full bath until it is all over.” Jaskier nodded. “But I owe you payment, for impressing me.” Geralt cupped Jaskier’s neck, pressed at his scent gland, and gave him a deep kiss. Jaskier sighed against his lips and Geralt lingered a little more than he should. He was getting thoroughly addicted to Jaskier’s kisses. He broke away and went outside, where Lambert was doing training forms and Geralt slid into next to him until they were both warmed up.

Lambert went on the offensive and Geralt just wanted to wrap him in a hug, soothe the hurting pack, but instead he pushed hard. They abandoned swords and were rolling on the ground, grappling with Lambert just making the most horrid snarls that pulled at all of Geralt’s instincts. He pressed Lambert face down into the stone and scruffed his neck lightly. “Are you done?”

“Fuck off, Geralt, of course I am not done,” Lambert shifted and managed to slide away and they were at it again. They kept rolling and snapping at each other until Lambert was on top and had him pinned. They stared at each other and Geralt barred his neck. Lambert bit the pack side hard. “Now I am done,” he said. He stood up and swayed a little. “Fuck.” He looked at Geralt all the bravado gone. “Fuck.”

“I’m picking you up now,” Geralt warned and he caught Lambert before his knees could buckle. He carried him down to the springs, where Vesemir was at the door. “I know it is usually just the two of you, but -”

“But he’s been fighting this heat hard,” Vesemir sighed. “Our silly pup.”

“Fuck you, old man,” Lambert replied even as his hand reached out. Geralt handed him over and followed them down. Heinrich glowed, clearly responding to the rising scent of Lambert, and didn’t even try to kill them.

“Good, Heinrich,” Geralt said and pat a vine. He settled on a bench, leaving this to Vesemir because it was their ritual, built after everything that happened. Vesemir stripped Lambert down, and then himself, and they eased into the water. Vesemir was speaking quietly about how valued Lambert was, and how it fine, different than what was, but it would be fine. They had him, safe and loved.

Lambert was quiet just leaning on Vesemir as he was cleaned, washed, and praised. Words he would never let happen otherwise; he seemed to have even forgotten that Geralt was there. “Sir?”

“Yes, little one?”

“I miss them all.”

“I know,” Vesemir was nuzzling him and Geralt wrapped himself in a hug because he felt like he was missing a limb, the ghost of the lost brothers that had once been held in those arms. Geralt tuned out their conversation and he appreciated it when vines began to encase him; the suffocation an almost honest attempt at a hug. He nudged the vines away and a glance at Vesemir confirmed that he was safe to leave. He went to the kitchens and found Eskel preparing food.

“Wolf?”

Geralt just shook his head and sat at the table. He buried his head in his hands and then felt a warm hug around him. “I know,” was all Eskel said, and it was enough. Lambert’s heat always stirred so many feelings, good ones, painful ones. There was a kiss to his head, “I know,” was repeated and Eskel just stayed holding him. Eventually the pain inside eased and he brought one of Eskel’s hands to his nose and nuzzled against it. “This will be a hard one.”

Geralt nodded, “it will, but we will cope.” He would do nothing less for his pack. He stood and helped Eskel finish the cooking and they brought it to the table. Geralt went to fetch Jaskier, whom he found in his room, pawing through his bags. “Looking for something?” He breathed in and Jaskier’s scent was worried, nervous. “Are you hurting?”

“No, no, no, no hurting.” Jaskier smiled at him and the nervous scent was increasing. “Just had a thought, wondered if I had packed a thing, and I had. Happy to have found it, that is all.”

“Your scent is not happy.”

“Geralt, if you even think of using alpha voice on me right now, I will stab you.” Jaskier paused. “Oh for fucks sake, do not smell aroused at the thought of me stabbing you! Lunch is waiting, let’s go.”

“It wasn’t about the stabbing, I just like when you get bossy,” Geralt muttered.

“And now I am bossing you back downstairs.” Jaskier hurried passed him and Geralt followed, rather happy to watch Jaskier’s ass as he stalked to the table. Vesemir and Lambert were already there, Lambert being forced to eat a full meal because shortly it’d be about whatever small bits they could get him to eat. Jaskier started to approach him and Lambert snarled. 

Jaskier stuck out his tongue and sat across from Lambert. 

They all ate and it was one of the quietest meals they had had this winter. Lambert’s scent was growing, and Geralt could feel himself getting hard in response. The feedback loop of arousal was starting. It was very close now. Jaskier was flushed the rising scents, more than he was used to.

“Fuck all this,” Lambert growled and shoved away from the table. He started to leave and Jaskier stood.

“Let this work, let this work, let this work,” Jaskier chanted to himself. “Lambert?”

“What, you stupid cub?”

“I’m going to touch you now,” Jaskier warned and Geralt watched him jump onto the table, and then leap at Lambert like a flying squirrel.

“What the fuck?” Eskel shouted, and Geralt flailed a bit unsure of what to do. He stood there and watched as Jaskier held Lambert’s arm, and jammed on a ring and bracelet to it.

“You don’t want the old jewelry because of the memories it had fine!” Jaskier shouted and could not be bucked off no matter how Lambert tried. “That doesn’t mean you have to suffer like the fucking asshole idiot you apparently are!” Jaskier was painfully loud by the end of the sentence as he slammed an ear cuff onto Lambert’s ear. “All my heat jewelry. It is yours. Because you are my pack you colossal, needy pillock!” Jaskier rolled off and stood up. “You can kill me now, if you have to, but at least I’ll die knowing you are in less goddamn pain.” He straightened his shirt and stood there defiant. “Because I love you, you big dumb wolf.”

Lambert was sitting on the ground staring at the ring and bracelet. He touched the ear cuff and slowly stood. Geralt moved closer ready to defend Jaskier, because that had been foolish. Brave, and compassionate, but so fucking foolish.

“This is all you had?” Lambert kept rolling the bracelet on his wrist.

“Yes, three pieces is more than enough to keep you grounded during a heat.” Jaskier looked at Geralt. “That’s the right number isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Geralt said. “You should have at least six pieces, one for each limb to ground you, a chain around your waist, the ear cuff, something around your neck. I want to cover you in omega jewelry.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Jaskier agreed and his eyes shone. “That sounds really nice.”

“I want you in my nest with me,” Lambert blurted out, “And it made me mad, because that means I don’t miss my brothers doesn’t it?” He looked lost. He brought his wrist up to his mouth and bit down on the jewelry sucked on it. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Jaskier swore. “You have comfort in front of you, and I think your brothers would be mad if you didn’t take it.”

“He has a point, Lambert,” Vesemir said from the table. “You are fighting your instinct of wanting a pack mate near, and hurting yourself. Don’t punish yourself for living.”

Lambert moved forward and buried his nose into the right side of Jaskier’s neck. “My nest is really great right now.”

“I’d love to see it,” Jaskier said.

“That was a really good flying tackle.”

“Been watching my wolves train, always a quick learner.”

Geralt watched them, thrilled that they had each other, that Lambert would have comfort this heat. He purred a little and they both looked at him. “I’ll just be in my room, I’ll hear when you need me.”

“I always…I don’t want to hurt this time,” Lambert said. “I’m tired of hurting, alpha.”

“While you are still coherent, I need you to be very clear what that means,” Geralt looked at him. “Are you saying -”

“No, gods above, no you aren’t putting your dick in me,” Lambert said swiftly. “Not riding alpha cock that isn’t wood ever again. Just I usually wait until I can’t bear it anymore for your heat comfort. Could you…could you be there from the start?”

“I could,” Geralt said.

“I don’t fully understand heat comfort?” Jaskier scented Lambert and Geralt hadn’t seen Lambert’s eyes shine like that in decades. “What does it mean?”

“I’ll scent him and hold him,” Geralt explained, “bite the pack side of his neck a bit, but never break skin. I’ll fuck him with a fake cock when he can’t do it himself. Bathe him, feed him.”

“I can do all that,” Jaskier said in earnest. He hugged Lambert. “I can help with all that.”

“It is a bit different when an omega offers a fellow omega heat comfort,” Lambert said quietly.

Geralt moved over and hugged them both. Lambert had gone quiet. “I don’t mind,” Geralt swore. “I swear, I do not mind in the least.”

“I don’t understand,” Jaskier said. “This isn’t a thing I know. You either fuck or just survive.”

“There is always in between,” Geralt said. “And Lambert is used to heat comfort from a fellow omega being kissing and touching. You’d be allowed to touch his cock, press fingers into him to help him cope.”

“Eep,” Jaskier squeaked. “Wait really, but, Geralt wouldn’t you, I can’t touch him like that before you claim me can I?” 

“You will be my mate on your heat, but this is pack. The pack often comes first,” Geralt said. “If this is what my pack needs, then I welcome it. I just want you both safe.”

“I -” Jaskier looked so confused. “I can’t make any promises?”

Lambert kissed him softly, and then nuzzled again at his neck. “I get it. Just having you there would be enough.” 

Geralt kissed both their heads and the scent of both of them was filling his brain. “Lambert it is a couple hours at most.”

“I know,” Lambert agreed. He left go and went and let Vesemir and Eskel scent him, whisper words of praise and promise to help. He then walked by and up to his rooms. Geralt held out his hand to Jaskier, and Jaskier took it.

Geralt couldn’t help himself and picked Jaskier up, carried him upstairs. They went to their room first. “You don’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Geralt ordered and yes he used a bit of alpha voice on it. “He will be desperate but you do not compromise yourself.”

Jaskier’s eyes were dazed a bit at the voice but he nodded. “Yes alpha, I be good and true and fuck I’ve never actually touched anyone like that, I sort of just lay there when I had sex before. It was kind of boring.”

“When it is our time, I promise you won’t be bored.” Geralt licked at his side of Jaskier’s neck and enjoyed the whimper that Jaskier made. “Are you ready to understand who we really are?”

“NOPE!” Jaskier giggled. “But I wasn’t ready to be married off to you, and that seems to be working out fantastic, so let’s do this!” Jaskier was almost skipping as he turned to go to Lambert’s room.

Geralt quietly followed, entered Lambert’s room, and closed the door behind himself. They were now in there, until it was done.  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited because i was too excited to post

Geralt nodded when he saw the nest. It was the best heat nest that Lambert had put together in years. He had never shortchanged himself on the nest, but it also hadn’t been this lush in a long time. “Good,” he said.

“No shit, I…I was always the one to make the nests.” Lambert brought his wrist up and sucked on the bracelet a bit. Geralt nudged Jaskier and Jaskier took the hint, wrapped himself around Lambert and soon they were scenting each other. 

It had been a very long time since he had been permitted in to make the start of the heat easier, and Geralt was not going to shirk that responsibility. He stripped down to skin and rubbed his shirt under his arms, along his neck so that it added a bit more scent to it. His small clothes carried enough scent and it would be absurd to stand there and rub the linen on his balls. He put the clothes at the head of the nest and prowled around the room a bit, filling it with alpha scent. “Lambert,” Geralt went over. “I ask you now, do I have your permission to touch you for the length of your heat, to offer you aid and succor, to let my alpha body provide what you need, in the way that we have agreed? May I have the honour and privilege of being your humble attendant? May I be the stars that guide you through the storm?” Geralt took a breath and finished the old words, “Omega, in this, always, eternally my fellow wolf, let me be your shelter, your way, your home.”

“What the fuck was that?” Jaskier whispered and looked near to tears, “Geralt, what?” 

If Jaskier was near to tears, Lambert was in them. “I have missed those words,” Lambert turned from Jaskier and into Geralt’s arms which were open and waiting. “I don’t know if I can -” there was a hiccup and Geralt pressed Lambert’s nose to his neck, let his alpha scent soothe the rising heat. “I can’t say them all.”

“I know, it is fine, Lupe,” Geralt promised the old endearment slipping out. “I am sorry,” he added swiftly. They weren’t supposed to use that ever again. There were more tears against his neck. “Shh, I won’t again.”

“No, I missed that too,” Lambert sucked at Geralt’s throat. “Can you call me that for this heat?”

“I can,” Geralt felt a band of pain ease from around his heart. He had missed the old words and names so much. “Lupe, I don’t need all the words, I just need one.”

Lambert eased back and stripped down to skin as well, “Alpha, see me safely through the wilds, to our warm hearth.”

Geralt wiped a tear away and nodded. He pressed his nose to Lambert’s neck, breathed in. “You have just a bit longer,” he said.

“Go sit on my bed,” Lambert ordered and moved into the nest. “So, you look confused, cub.”

“I don’t understand any of what was just said. At all.” 

“It is the call of the pack, of heat comfort and promise,” Lambert explained. “When the heat chain would begin, before the massacre, one of the alphas would say those words, and one of the omegas would respond. It is the old prayer, we just tweaked it a bit to suit us more. You must have at least studied the old prayer in that school you went to?”

“I avoided alpha and omega romantic studies, didn’t want that sort of lie because I knew what was ahead for me,” Jaskier looked between them. “It was beautiful.”

“I’m supposed to say more than I did, I just couldn’t,” Lambert explained. “This is all, it is a lot. Right, but a lot.” He lay in his nest. “There is a call between omegas as well. I would like to say those words to you. If you wouldn’t mind, cub.”

Jaskier shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”

Geralt moved behind Jaskier and pulled his shirt from his breeches. He set to undressing Jaskier slowly, reverently as Lambert lay in the nest and fiddled with the jewelry that Jaskier had put on him. “You can’t enter the nest until after he says these words and you respond,” Geralt explained to Jaskier. When Jaskier was naked, Geralt pressed behind him and wrapped him in an embrace to keep him still. Jaskier was wanting to go comfort the fellow omega even if he didn’t quite understand. “Wait, vulpes.”

“What is that?”

“Fox,” Geralt said, “in the formal tongue. Lupe is short for Lupus, wolf. In heat we don’t use our names, but instead our animal self.”

“What do I call you?” Jaskier asked.

“Arctos,” Geralt remembered. “They always called me Arctos, for northern wolf, of ice and snow.”

“I like it,” Jaskier said, “we are someone else in this moment, makes sense to have different names.”

“Vulpes, my omega brother, my body will be in command of my mind soon, but never my heart. That heart calls to yours, asks it to join me, comfort me in my need. I ask you to join your scent with mine, because we know that omegas are not in competition to each other, but sworn to protect and love each other. We were bound in shared understanding before the conjunction, and our hearts will understand each other after no one even remembers we trod the earth. Will you join me, help me not to just endure what is to happen, but to relish the strength and abundance that is in me?”

Geralt wiped away the tears that slid down Jaskier’s cheeks, and pressed a gentle kiss and lick to where in a month he would lay a permanent claim. “Lupus,” Geralt whispered.

“Lupus,” Jaskier repeated.

“My lupus, my heart, you give me the gift of yourself, the gift of being a part of your nest.”

He could feel Jaskier swallow. “My lupus, my heart, you give me the gift of yourself, the gift of being a part of your nest.”

Geralt found the words so awkward on his tongue because they were ones he had heard but never spoken. “I will treasure this gift, worship your body, cherish your heart, protect your mind.”

“I will treasure this gift, worship your body, cherish your heart, protect your mind.”

“I accept the bonds of our pack, and will always answer your call.”

Jaskier was gasping the tears pouring down his face now, and his scent was haywire. Geralt realized that he had never had companionship like this before, been wanted like this before. Geralt kissed him again. He rubbed a hand over Jaskier’s stomach, the skin soft, the hair silky. He was fit but you couldn’t feel muscle definition on him. Geralt loved the feel of his skin. “Say the words, vulpes.”

“I accept the bond of ou-ou-our pack, and will always, I will fucking always answer your call,” Jaskier said, stumbling over the our because it was the first time he had an our to be a part of in his life. Geralt let go and Jaskier yanked away, dove into the nest and they were kissing desperately, nuzzling against each other. Geralt sat on the bed, watched the way they pet each other, brushed nose against nose. He began to purr, because they were perfect, and that he got to watch them, that he had that honour to be their shelter in this moment made him feel unbearably good.

“Now, slut lesson,” Lambert said. 

“Right now?” Jaskier sniffled and rubbed the snot away on his arm. Geralt dove forward and licked him clean. “Uhh, Ger - I mean Arctos, that was a bit gross?”

Lambert laughed, “Cub, heat is kind of gross. You know that right?”

“But that?”

“Grosser will happen when we are in the thick of it, and he has already switched into heat comfort mode,” Lambert explained and Geralt hurried back over to the bed now that his Jaskier was clean. He was waiting, ready and alert to take care of any need. “You have figured out what sort of alpha Arctos is, haven’t you?”

“He’s an alpha,” Jaskier nodded. He knew that.

Geralt realized he hadn’t put all the pieces together though. He didn’t know…how didn’t he know? “Lupe, he doesn’t know,” Geralt growled a bit, unsure how he felt about having it laid bare in this particular moment. “He can, if he doesn’t figure it out during the heat, we explain after,” Geralt begged. “Please, Lupe.”

“There is only one type of alpha,” Jaskier insisted.

Lambert kissed his nose. “That’s right, only one type of alpha for you,” he agreed. “But as I said slut lessons. I have one to give you before I can’t focus on anything at all.”

“In front of him?”

“That is the whole point vulpes,” Lambert was grinning. “I always like to have one last orgasm that I am completely in control of, where my body is following what I want. So your lesson? How to masturbate for an audience.”

Geralt let out a low rumble of pleasure at the thought of watching this particular slut lesson. His pleased growl and scent in turn ramped up the scent coming from the nest, the pleasure loop settling into place. His cock was thickening but Geralt ignored it. He intended to ignore the whole time in here. 

“I know how to jerk off,” Jaskier huffed. “It isn’t hard.”

“Well it should be, or you are doing it wrong.” Geralt chuckled that it took Jaskier a moment to understand the pun, and when Jaskier stuck out his tongue at Lambert, Lambert leaned forward and sucked on that tongue. Fuck they were gorgeous. “But let me guess, you are always worried about being interupted, being heard, caught, that it is always a furtive quick thing?” Jaskier gave a nod. “Watch and copy me.”

Geralt watched them, because he was supposed to, because he wanted to. Lambert rolled onto his back and put one arm behind his head. On leg was up, one was down, a casual and enticing pose. Jaskier swiftly copied it and looked a little awkward. “You don’t have to copy exactly, cub, just think about if you wanted Geralt to catch you, how would you want to look?”

Jaskier sat up more in the nest and leaned back against the wall, legs sprawled, more as if he were in a chair than on a bed. “He likes kissing me in chairs, when I am a bit taller than him. He likes putting me taller than him.”

“He does, does he?” Lambert had a bit of a smirk on his face. “Might be a part of what type of alpha he is, though again of course there is only one type of alpha.” He was clearly laughing and Geralt growled at him. “Next part of the lesson is slow, don’t go right away to stripping your cock bare. Suck on your fingers a bit, make him think about what your mouth would feel like sucking on the skin of his knot.” Lambert pressed two fingers into his mouth and moved them like he was sucking cock and then trailed them down the line of his stomach and back up until he flicked a nipple. He gasped and there it was, the scent of Lambert’s slick, finally releasing as he properly began his heat. “Good,” Lambert praised as Jaskier repeated. “Now keep doing that but each pass get a little closer to your cock. Until eventually you wrap your fingers around yourself.”

Geralt watched as Jaskier did it, received some suggestions from Lambert, until Lambert was too involved in chasing his orgasm before he was insensible to the whole experience. Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and Geralt nodded “show me,” Geralt encouraged. “Show me,” he let a little bit of alpha voice seep in. Jaskier’s eyes glazed a bit and his scent rose. Jaskier’s hand began to pull at his sweet cock, and it filled quickly between his hand and all the scents that hung in the air. “Don’t rush,” Geralt said, “enjoy the feel.” He followed the motion, as those musician’s fingers stroked the length. He glanced over and Lambert was sucking on the bracelet as he dropped his hand from his cock to press into his hole. For a moment Geralt’s mind went back to the grand chamber that used to be used for this, ghosts of the other wolves for a moment hung in the air, supported their brother, but it was just a fanciful thought and in a blink they were gone. 

“I’m here,” he told them both, told the ghosts just in case, “I stand ready. For you.”

“You’re sitting,” Jaskier pointed out. He glanced at Lambert whose fingers were pumping furiously in and out of his hole, and Lambert was rolling his hips. Jaskier couldn’t give the show to Geralt anymore and rolled over and sucked on Lambert’s pack shoulder. His hips rocked against Lambert and he was done first, his youth and first pack heat overwhelming him. Geralt could smell his come, his slick, could dream what it would feel like against his skin. “Fuck,” Jaskier whispered.

“Not just yet, Vulpes, but sometime in this,” Lambert agreed and arched up, coming just from his own fingers pressing inside, no hand on his cock. He pulled them out and looked at them, a bit in confusion. He held up his hand and Geralt came with a cloth and wiped them clean. “Need scent, Arctos. You need to ground me because it is almost here.” Lambert was sweating and it wasn’t just from the orgasm.

Geralt immediately set to licking Lambert clean of his come and Jaskier. Jaskier was watching and arousal was already rising him in again. Geralt licked every drop off Lambert, nuzzled all the skin that he dragged his tongue along and buried his nose in Lambert’s thigh at the crux by his limp cock and breathed on. “Lupe,” he said. He was so used to smelling Lambert’s heat when he was already rushing towards agony. To smell that scent at peace, with the joy of an omega compatriot was heady. He looked up and Lambert was biting that bracelet again. He need a chain to eat. “I have, I’ll be right back, I swear.”

Geralt ran, knowing Lambert had Jaskier. He tore into his room and found the box in the trunk that he had been saving. Waiting to gift. But he was sure that Jaskier would understand. He ran back him and stumbled at the sight of Lambert and Jaskier cuddling, Jaskier wrapped protectively around Lambert and singing softly to him. “May I join your nest?” There was a nod and Lambert had a soft open look that Geralt remembered. “Hello Little Lupe,” he said and bent to scent him. “I have missed this you.”

“I missed him too. Was wrong to want this.”

“No, it was never wrong to want, it is just this, Jaskier is the right time.” Geralt opened the box. “I knew I was to be mated. I bought jewelry for my mate.”

“You did?” Jaskier was peering over Lambert’s shoulder. “Ohh, yes, yes you can. Absolutely, you said there need to be at least six right? Let me see.” Jaskier took the box from Geralt, demandingly, and Geralt let him, happily. “These are nice, Arctos, simple but steady,” Jaskier picked up a long chain. “I don’t understand this one.”

“Gweld, enjoyed that style.” Geralt took it from Jaskier’s hand and held up. “Lupe?”

Lambert nodded and held up his left arm and Geralt passed it over and around his back and the other end over his right arm, it hung off his shoulders draped along his back, to help an alpha tug, ground the omega if their body started to spasm a bit. Lambert smelled of his slick, contentment, and just a bit of sadness. 

Jaskier looked and poked in the box. “These are large bracelets.”

“Anklets,” Geralt said. “It was all to be for you. Your heat with me, until we could get you pieces that you would want. They seem boring next to you.”

“They seem sturdy, sure. They say they will keep their promise.” Jaskier moved and put the anklets on Lambert, “You are looking so beautiful, Lupus.”

Lambert snorted, “Yeah they are lining up to paint this face.” His breath was growing ragged and his scent was rising.

“You are pretty!” Jaskier growled a bit to prove his point. “Proper necklace.”

“Jaskier, you don’t have to give him everything I -” Geralt cut himself off when Jaskier snarled at him, instinct protecting his fellow omega. Geralt tilted his neck in submission. “Dress him as you see fit, vulpes. Your eye is better than mine. I serve both your whims.” He watched Jaskier tried to fully parse out the meaning but it was getting hard to think for all of them. “Dress him, let him have the comfort.”

Geralt watched as Jaskier took every single bit of jewelry that was meant for him and drape it all onto Lambert. He was in awe that a man who had been so hurt could be so generous. “That was your gift.”

“And I am gifting it to my pack,” Jaskier replied. He leaned down and kissed Lambert. “Am I doing all this right, Lupus?”

“You are magnificent. I’ll give it all back when it is your time,” Lambert was running his hands all over himself, and his body was just pouring slick. “Arctos!”

“I know,” Geralt said and he properly moved into the nest and lay down. He brought Lambert to him and cuddled him close, surround his fellow wolf with his scent. “It won’t hurt this time, like it has in the past, you have a pack omega again. You are wearing jewelry. You are letting go of the pain, not punishing yourself for living.”

“I feel empty. Doesn’t ache yet, but just feel empty,” Lambert whined, and Geralt bit at the pack side of his neck which soothed him. Geralt let his hand rest low on Lambert’s stomach, massaged the muscles that were thinking of cramping. “Vulpes?”

“What do you need?” Jaskier hovered close and his mouth was sucking as close as it could to where Geralt was nipping. Their eyes met over the pale plains of Lambert’s shoulder. “What do I do?”

“You press two fingers into his hole, if you are comfortable with that,” Geralt explained. He lifted Lambert’s leg up and back, exposed him to Jaskier. “You saw him touching himself, just like that.”

“Fingers aren’t a knot.”

“He doesn’t need that yet,” Geralt explained. “Can you do this?”

Jaskier gave a small nod and carefully pressed two fingers against Lambert. “Lupus?”

“You feel cool against me, smell like home,” Lambert sounded a bit dreamy. Like he used to. “Bit angry, a little sharp, a lot sweet. Perfect.”

“You smell really great,” Jaskier agreed. “Arctos smells really good, like that day after a storm? And a favourite blanket. How can you smell like both at the same time?”

“It’s Arctos’s alpha, it extra comforts.” Lambert guided Jaskier’s wrist. “Like when you finger yourself.”

“I uhhh, yeah, sure, like when I do it to myself,” Jaskier agreed.

“Oh, Vulpes, we are stepping up your slut lessons,” Lambert sounded heartbroken. “Gonna make you the best slut ever. Arctos will never know what hit him. You’ll be able to tie him up to the bed and do whatever you want to him.” 

Fuck that thought finished what the scent in the room had done and Geralt was hard as a rock, and his knot was throbbing, wanted to be buried in an omega. His omega. He adjusted his cock up, so that it was against the small of Lambert’s back instead of against his ass. He watched Jaskier press his fingers into Lambert, the shock and awe on his face. Geralt reached out and cupped Jaskier’s neck. “I am so proud of you Vulpes,” Geralt praised. “Pack, our pack weathers every storm, together.” He wiped away the tear that fell from Jaskier’s eye. “You amaze me. I am grateful you are my mate.”

“I have barely touched you and have my fingers buried in your brother?” Jaskier pointed out.

“We’ll have our time. Now move those fingers, steady, in and out,” Geralt told him with a bit of alpha voice, lest he hesitate, because it was here. Geralt guided Jaskier as he scented Lambert and when Lambert shouted, Geralt pulled Jaskier’s hand away, and found the dildo that was in the nest. He pushed it into Lambert, worked it furiously, until Lambert was crying. “Jaskier gently squeeze his cock,” Geralt said and the minute Jaskier’s fingers closed around him, Lambert shouted. Geralt pushed the knot on the wood inside Lambert, and moved it until it was clear that it was in the right spot. He let go and massaged Lambert’s stomach. “Lupe, Lupe,” he whispered and scent him. 

Geralt’s cock was aching from the strain, the urge to bury into the omega, but he wouldn’t, he would never.

“My hand is dirty,” Jaskier whispered. He looked at his fingers and was clearly about to lick them clean but Geralt growled. 

“My job, Vulpes,” Geralt snapped and licked Jaskier’s hand clean.

Lambert giggled a bit. “Always found it funny that the last alpha was your sort of alpha, not one of the -” Geralt cut the words off with a kiss. He wasn’t mad at Lambert for breaking his promise because for the next few days he wasn’t going to be thinking clearly. Lambert turned and snuggled into his arms, Geralt’s erection pressing against Lambert’s stomach.

Geralt tugged at the chain that rested on Lambert’s shoulder blades, and Lambert rutted against Geralt until he had come again and was in a light doze. Geralt stroked Lambert’s back and looked at Jaskier over his head.

“Is this what the next few days will be like?” Jaskier asked.

“Vesemir and Eskel will check in, bring food, fresh water to drink and clean ourselves, though you won’t need it much, I’ll keep you clean.”

“Like a wolf licking a new babe clean?” Jaskier teased but it was gentle.

“Sort of,” Geralt agreed. “How was it to touch him like that?”

“Odd but right,” Jaskier stroked a finger down Lambert’s spine. “When I say that I love him, you know what that means, don’t you?”

“That you love him,” Geralt said. “I love him, you know what that means, don’t you?”

“I think I finally do,” Jaskier traced those knobs of spine. “Which day do you crack and fuck him, and he doesn’t remember?”

Lambert heard that and giggled, “Vulpes, he won’t fuck me, he promised.”

“No alpha can last in a heat nest the whole time and not fuck an omega,” Jaskier, “biology beyond anything else wouldn’t let it.”

“Not with me, not the type of alpha I am,” Geralt replied. “I never will break Jaskier, I won’t fuck him.”

“You are far better than I deserved, I should have waited for you.”

Geralt laughed a bit. “You did, Vulpes. No other alpha will have served you? You did wait for me.” He kissed Lambert’s head. “Lupe, another orgasm?” There was a nod. “How?”

Geralt’s hand was brought between them and Geralt stroked Lambert off and then licked his fingers clean. A little bit later when Lambert stretched and rolled over to snuggle Jaskier, Geralt gently pulled the wood cock out of Lambert, cleaned it off, ready for the next round. There was a knock at the door and since they were well engaged with each other, Geralt was able to answer. Eskel stood there with a tray.

“How is it?”

“Lupe is doing well, it will go a lot better that I was here from the beginning,” Geralt said, and he knew he was smiling.

“Lupe,” everything in Eskel relaxed, and his smile shone brighter than a star. “Lupe.”

Geralt nodded.

“Is that Lycan?” Lambert called. “Kiss!”

Eskel stepped into the room and carefully knelt in the nest. “Lupe,” he breathed out and pressed a kiss to Lambert’s neck. “I will see to the needs your mind forgets it needs in this time.”

“Feed me, Lycan?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Geralt went and picked Jaskier up and took him over to the bed. “Let them have this moment,” he said. He sat Jaskier across him lap, and Jaskier lifted a bit so he was looking down at Geralt. There was that shine to his eyes, and his scent was heavy. Geralt began to purr and rested a hand in the small of his back.

“You really do like it when I am above you,” Jaskier said. 

“I do, Vulpes.”

“Arctos, it is a fun thing to say, I like the different names for this. I have not done enough reading.”

“I know what you’ll be doing when this is all over,” Geralt teased. He tilted his head up and enjoyed the soft kiss that Jaskier dropped on his lips. “Your body is so beautiful.”

“Still has a bit of baby fat,” Jaskier said.

“It is healthy, young, strong,” Geralt shook his head. “Beautiful.”

“Hairy,” Jaskier stroked a hand down his chest. “Came in when I was thirteen, my mother had this substance poured on, it pulled all the hair out, but within a month it was back.”

“It holds your scent, gives me something to play with, how it is bad?”

“It isn’t, is it?” Jaskier grinned. “Arctos?”

“Yes?”

“What happens if I do this?” Jaskier slowly sank down and his ass was resting on Geralt’s cock. “And then this?” Jaskier giggled as he rocked his hips.

It was cruel. It was perfect.

“What happens is that I feel very good,” Geralt replied. He nuzzled Jaskier’s neck, licked at his scent gland. They kissed and held each other until there was a moan from Lambert. They were needed again. Eskel kissed them all goodbye and they esconced themselves back into the nest. Geralt wrapped himself around Lambert again, and this time, with Jaskier was more confident about bringing Lambert off.

The next day and a half passed like that, with Geralt cleaning them both off with his tongue, and occasional cloth. He helped Lambert to the chamber pot the couple times he had to pee, and he hand fed them both. It was honestly the best a heat had gone in decades. Geralt’s dick had been hard almost the whole time and he was hurting, but he’d endure like always.

He was drinking a glass of water and choked on it when he heard Jaskier ask, “Can I, what else can my body do to help you?” 

“Vulpes, Freya I’d love for you to fuck me,” Lambert begged. “It would be so good.”

“I’ve never fucked anyone,” Jaskier said. 

“Arctos? Guide him?”

He could deny them nothing. Jaskier and Lambert faced each other, kissed and touched. Lambert threw a leg over Jaskier’s hip and Geralt could tell that Jaskier wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. “I’m going to touch you Vulpes, my omega, my love,” he whispered and he slowly guided Jaskier’s cock into Lambert. Geralt’s cock was pressed up trapped between his body and Jaskier’s, pressed to the small of his back. Geralt rocked his hips, holding Jaskier so that his motion would push him into Lambert. Lambert and Geralt did all the work, Jaskier’s body in between. Geralt was breathing in both of them but it was Jaskier's scent filling his nose the most.

His mate.

"Vulpes," he groaned.

"Whatever you need," Jaskier swore between gasps. "You can -"

"No," Geralt couldn't have their first time together be this moment that was in aid to their pack. That would be for them, and soon, now that he had the feel of their bodies moving together.

Jaskier was the first to come, the new experience having him lost quickly; when he slipped out of Lambert, he quickly pushed the fake knot it and scented Lambert, which tipped him over.

When he was sure that both omegas were safe and satiated, Geralt rocked his hips, rutted against Jaskier's back until he went rigid, the orgasm, roaring through him, and he howled, a primal growl, that the two omegas answered.

His knot was inflating sure it needed to be inside a heat body, and soon it would swell to an excrutiating degree. He didn't realize what was happening at first because he was trying to sink down to meditate. Geralt was pushed on his back and then fingers were wrapped around his knot, squeezed hard to halt the swelling. More come spurted out of him. He looked down and saw Jaskier's hands around his knot, Lambert around Jaskier's.

"There you go, Arctos," Jaskier whispered. "You helped me help Lambert. Thank you, alpha mine."

Being called that had him purring and his vision going a little hazy in contentment. The two omegas rested their heads on him, as they held his knot, and Geralt buried his fingers in their hair and they all drifted in the heat haze.

*

Geralt was asleep, or mostly in the nest, his body knowing that Lambert was down and it could stand down from its role. His eyes were barely open but he could see, Jaskier sitting up at the other side of the nest, eating some dried fruit and biscuits. He couldn't see Lambert, but could hear him. Geralt was too exhausted to examine further, and stayed in that half awake, half asleep place. The omegas would let him know if they needed care. They knew he was a good alpha and would serve their needs.

"There you are, you fucker," Lambert huffed and it made Geralt smile a little that Lambert sounded like Lambert again. "Fuck I had hidden that well."

That was worrisome, but his body was too drained from denying its desires during the heat comfort for him to get up. He saw Lambert approach the nest and sit across from Jaskier. "Cub, you gave me the heat jewelry that was supposed to be yours for your mating."

"Lupus -"

"Heat is near enough passed, Lambert, please."

"Lambert, I was happy to give it to you, that made me happy. Because we are pack omegas together. Eternally."

Lambert cupped Jaskier's neck and brought their forheads together. "We are, cub. All of us are pack, but you and I the omegas of Kaer Morhen, that is a thing of its own, a pack of two. You gave me your jewelry."

"I did," Jaskier said. "And I'm not taking it back. If you try. I'll...I'll stab you. Good. Real good stabbing."

"You gave me your gift, Jaskier. So I am giving you mine," Lambert wiped a tear away and lay the cloth between them and he unfolded it and there was the jewelry from when the keep was whole. "Pack mate."

Jaskier ghosted a finger over the pieces. It wasn't the whole collection, from what Geralt could see, most of it Lambert's with a few pieces from the others. Lambert had hidden it away, unable to touch it let it ease his pain, but unwilling to see it lost to smelting or tossed in a lake. "Lambert," Jaskier threw himself at Lambert and they held each other close.

"Eskel and Vesemir will take care of me, for the bit that is left," Lambert said. "You take care of Geralt, once I say the words, take him to the room, don't leave his bed, he'll need something to hold. He needs sleep." Lambert approached him and Geralt looked up. "Arctos, alpha, you saw me home. I am safe and sheltered, guided through the storm by your sure hands."

"Lupe, I thank you for letting me be the one to guide you," Geralt replied. He smiled. "I'm going to touch you now."

"Geralt your cock has been resting against me for days, I think we've touched enough," Lambert rolled his eyes but he brought Geralt's hand to his neck, and Geralt squeezed. "You stink, go sleep and then have a bath."

Geralt groaned as he stood and then Jaskier's shoulder was under his arm, the cloth wrapped up again and clutched to his chest. They made it back to their suite and Geralt swayed as he stood. 

Jaskier quickly wiped them both down with cloth and fresh water that were on the table and they collapsed into bed. Geralt reached out and pulled Jaskier close.

"Did I take care of you?" he asked, he needed the answer before he could rest.

"So well," Jaskier swore. "Alpha, you were amazing."

"Because of you. Serving you, makes me good," Geralt yawned. "Like serving you, feels nice. Like your butt, your butt feels great." He wanted to say more but he had nothing left to give, and fell into a deep sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaskier learns what type of alpha geralt is.
> 
> warning for geralt having a bit of a panic attack.

Geralt was eating lunch in the kitchens, just grabbing whatever was easily on hand, exhausted from the morning training. Vesemir wasn’t around, so he was sitting on the counter just gnawing at stale bread some dried meat in his other hand. Fuck, he had forgotten what having a good heat meant for Lambert afterward. Bastard had so much energy this week. He had thought it would only be a day or two but it was day five and only now was the heat high starting to fade. He was happy for Lambert, but gods above he needed a nap. Luckily Eskel had stepped in, because the problem with the heat high was that Lambert was a bit clingy to Geralt, wanting the alpha.

Geralt’s jaw cracked as he yawned and he tore another hunk of bread off with his teeth, leaned back against the wall. He was chewing when he heard the footsteps and dove off the counter and sat at the table, throwing the food on a plate. When the door opened, it was just Jaskier though. “Fuck, I think I pulled something diving for the table.” He dropped his head on the table. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jaskier replied. “Do you need down to the water?”

Geralt thought about it; on one hand the water would feel nice, on the other that seemed so far away and like a lot of work. “No,” he finally decided. “Wet doesn’t sound as good as flopped.”

“Do you want your bed, silly alpha?”

Geralt sort of nodded against the table. “Lambert is happy, I did good.”

“You did,” Jaskier agreed, and Geralt felt himself nudged and then Jaskier was helping him move. “How tight are your muscles?”

“I dunno know,” Geralt didn’t like standing, “He hasn’t been like that in a long time. Forget that his heat high made him so energized. What does your do?”

“Not much,” Jaskier said, “I tend to have a lot of words in my head after, for a day, try to write them all down, some become songs, some are just gibberish.”

“Only day?” Geralt frowned. “Not that high?”

“Think you need an alpha to reach the full high,” Jaskier said. Geralt could see their door. That meant there was a bed on the other side. He was already purring at the thought of being flopped. “Oh you silly alpha, you could have told Lambert you needed a break.”

“Needed me,” Geralt pouted at him. “How come you don’t want me to be needed? I like being needed.” The door opened and Geralt stumbled forward. “Bed,” Geralt purred and dropped face down hard. It actually hurt and jarred something in his back. “Noooo, bed be nice to me,” he whined. 

“Lord how did you survive when there were lots of omegas heat high?”

“Not my job. I service in heats, the big tough alphas dealt with this.” Geralt was trying to kick his shoes off and it was difficult. “Jaskier, shoes are mean.”

“You are so tired you sound drunk.” But he felt gentle hands pulling off his shoes and undoing the laces at the back of his breeches. He was shoved and rolled over. Geralt helped Jaskier as much as he could and soon he was naked. “You don’t mind me looking, touching, do you?”

“Nu-uh,” Geralt said. He pointed, “that’s my dick, look all you want. Touch too!” He frowned a bit. “Might be smelly though. Six hours of playing…training.”

“I saw you Geralt, you were playing.” Jaskier moved away, he heard pouring and then a cool wet cloth was wiping his skin down. “Cute wolves romping about in the snow, growling and scruffing at each other.”

“Tough, old, warriors,” Geralt protested.

“I heard a half dozen giggles from the tough old warriors,” Jaskier was moving his arms to wipe at his arm pits. The cloth was wrung out and started going over his legs. “You were playing, helping Lambert deal with all his excess energy.”

“Next is the trip,” Geralt said. 

“Trip?”

“He and Vesemir go hunting for a few days, just them. They like it.”

“So it will just be three of us in the keep?”

“Hmm, Eskel usually does his extreme meditation during that time. It is weird. He says it helps him, so I leave him alone, other than make sure he drinks water, eats.”

“We’ll basically be alone for three or so days?”

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed. 

“What do you usually do during that time?”

“Repair armor, woodwork.”

“You do woodwork?” Jaskier sounded surprised. Geralt just gestured to the wardrobe, the chest at the foot of the bed. “You do good work.”

“Soothing,” Geralt yawned a bit. “Nap?”

“You can nap,” Jaskier agreed. “All nice and cleaned up.” 

“Thank you,” Geralt pulled Jaskier close and rolled over, trapping the omega half under him. He buried his nose in Jaskier’s neck and began to purr. When he awoke he felt something under his hand, that shouldn’t be. “Fuck, Jaskier, I am so sorry,” Geralt groaned. He had apparently been groping his omega in his sleep and that was awful. “My apologies, omega, for disrespecting you -” His hand had actually worked itself into Jaskier’s breeches in his sleep.

“Alpha mine, if you don’t get me off, serve me right now, I will write a very cruel song about you. You will have warts, boils, and smell of pig shit.” Jaskier was flushed and his eyes a bit wild. Geralt wondered how long he had been fondling Jaskier while he had been sleeping.

Geralt’s brain latched onto one word, “I serve you, my omega, always,” he growled a bit and lightly nipped at Jaskier’s neck. “Always,” he repeated. He began to move his hand very gently on Jaskier’s cock. “Like this?” 

“Yes,” Jaskier moaned and arched into the touch. “In my slut lessons, Lambert said to throw around the word serve with you a lot. Why?”

“Asshole,” Geralt muttered. “I am biologically a service alpha,” he finally admitted. He moved down a bit and pushed up Jaskier’s shirt so that he could see skin. He gave a small lick to one of Jaskier’s nipples and then blew warmly against it. He watched it tighten and Jaskier squirmed, his scent growing more aroused, and the faint smell of slick forming. He licked again, sucked for a moment and Jaskier shouted. “No?”

“Never had that, fuck, more,” Jaskier said. “Fuck, that feels so good.” 

Geralt grinned, pleased to discover that his omega liked his nipples played with. He took his hand from Jaskier’s cock, which made the omega whine a bit, but Geralt began to purr to soothe him. He settled in between Jaskier’s legs and his weight pressed down on Jaskier’s cock as he dipped his head and began to suck hard at one nipple, while his fingers played with the other. Jaskier was trying to move against him, but Geralt’s weight held him in place. Geralt’s purring increased when Jaskier’s hands buried in his hair, held him against skin, demanding more.

Geralt switched to the other nipple, biting, licking until the buds were swollen and Jaskier was whining over sensitive. Geralt pressed a kiss to his heart and then moved down; he pulled down the breeches just enough to free Jaskier’s cock, and then Geralt licked at that sweet length. His purrs grew louder as he breathed in Jaskier’s scent. There was slick and his desire and everything that was making Geralt’s head swim. He kissed the tip of Jaskier’s cock and then sucked it into his mouth. 

He hadn’t even made it down the length and Jaskier was coming, filling his mouth. Geralt swallowed every drop, let Jaskier’s cock stay in his mouth as it softened before he very gently pulled off and moved back up so that he could nuzzle the mating side of Jaskier’s neck. His purrs of contentment were almost making the bed shake. 

Geralt wanted to stay like that for hours but Jaskier was elbowing him away, and then was out of the bed. Geralt growled a bit. “Why are you up?” Jaskier’s scent was switching from arousal to panic, and Geralt’s eyes widened. “I hurt you, you didn’t like it,” Geralt felt his heart as it began to race as much as a witcher heart could. “Fuck, I didn’t serve you well.” He started to shake a bit. “I didn’t -” Geralt stood and gave a bow to Jaskier. “I am sorry, I will -” he couldn’t think and just left the room. He couldn’t subject his incredible omega to his presence. He hurried through the keep and found himself in Vesemir’s room. It was empty but the scent of the older man soothed him. He pulled the blankets off the bed and curled up in the corner, as if he was a wounded animal. 

He just sat there, feeling hollow, and he heard running. Then he saw Vesemir in front of him, crouched, smelling calm and soothing, the beta gentle scent easing the panic in his brain just a little bit. Geralt buried his face in Vesemir’s neck, “I didn’t serve well.”

“Oh pup,” Vesemir pulled him into a hug, “I highly doubt that,” he reassured but Geralt knew it had to be a lie. There was a soothing hand up and down his back though and Geralt leaned into the touch, leaned into Vesemir. “Jaskier is scared he did something wrong, and Lambert is explaining a few things to him. And looking suspiciously guilty.”

Geralt was sucking on Vesemir’s neck and couldn’t quite put together the words in a sensible manner in his mind. He felt himself being nudged and he followed Vesemir to the bed and his head was in Vesemir’s lap, a soothing hand in his hair. Vesemir started to read a beastiary to him and Geralt slowly found himself calming. He could dimly hear more running and ignored it to bury his face against Vesemir’s stomach. It was probably just Jaskier to tell Vesemir how bad an alpha Geralt was, and then the comfort would stop and he’d be punished, which he deserved for being bad.

“So, I might have fucked up,” Geralt heard Lambert say. He could smell that all of them were in the room now, but he didn’t look over. He did feel the bed dip and knew it was Eskel. Geralt turned and moved from Vesemir’s lap to Eskel’s.

“Wolf?”

“I didn’t serve,” Geralt whispered.

“Ahh, Lambert, you dick, what did you do?” Eskel growled.

“I didn’t realize!” Lambert shouted. “I didn’t think Jaskier would drop that word before he fully knew what Geralt was.”

“You will be running laps for a very long time today,” Vesemir snapped at Lambert. “You taught him to trigger Geralt’s instincts without explaining what they were?”

“Geralt wanted to tell him, and I assumed he had in the last few days!”

“He was busy with your heat high,” Eskel picked up the yelling at Lambert, “and look what happened. You ruined a perfectly good service alpha!”

“I didn’t do fuck all,” Lambert protested.

“Wait, stop yelling at Lambert, this is my fault,” Jaskier protested and he smelled awful. Geralt’s head immediately popped up. “I was bad at sex and it upset Geralt.”

“You weren’t bad at sex, I didn’t serve you well,” Geralt protested. He wanted to scent Jaskier, soothe him but he was unworthy to touch his omega until he had been punished for being bad. “You need to -”

“Jaskier, you need to tell Geralt that he is not at fault,” Vesemir said firmly. “You didn’t understand what happened, and that is not your fault. But Geralt is two breaths away from a vicious spiral, and you need to attend to that.”

“Alpha mine, you did nothing wrong,” Jaskier crawled onto the bed, and Geralt longed to reach out, hold him close, but he couldn’t. “Geralt, I’ve never felt as amazing as you made me feel. You…served me very well?” He was hesitant but it was enough and Geralt hauled Jaskier into his arms and began to desperately scent him. He breathed him in, and Jaskier didn’t smell angry. Confused, worried, but not disappointed in him.

The bed dipped once more, and Geralt knew that it was Lambert. “I’m sorry, I didn’t put it all together,” Lambert said. He sounded a bit forlorn. “I just wanted to give him good slut lessons. Because he was so good to me, and I want the two of you to be happy.”

“I am the one who fucked up. I…” Geralt pulled a bit away from Jaskier and he was flushed bright red, and his scent was growing acrid. “I was done so quickly, it was embarrassing. And I knew you’d be upset that I did that in your mouth, that I was done so quick, wanted to run and hide, but then you smelled horrible and bolted. Ran to get everyone. You were so upset with me, you ran out naked Geralt.”

“Oh the naked thing, is pretty normal for us to see,” Lambert said and then winced. “Fuck another thing I shouldn’t have said.”

“And the load you are carrying on that run just increased significantly,” Vesemir said and Geralt saw Lambert duck his head in complete submission, well aware of how much he was messing up.

“I do not understand what is going on. I humiliated myself by coming like it was when I first began to drop slick, and then Geralt is running, and I said something I wasn’t supposed to, and there is nudity? I am done.” Geralt couldn’t stop the wounded animal noise that came out. “No, no, alpha mine, not done with you. Done with this confusion. One of you is going to exactly explain what the fuck is going on.”

Eskel cleared his throat and Geralt was relieved that he wasn’t going to have to do it. He kept his face buried against Jaskier’s neck, occasionally licking at where a mating mark might go, if Jaskier still wanted him after this. “He is biologically a service alpha.”

“He said that, and that meant nothing to me. Alphas are alphas?” Jaskier was hesitant. “I have read most the books you have on this and they don’t say anything about it.”

“You know how some alphas are more aggressive than others,” Eskel said, “there are the ones that just shouting about how big their knots are, and generally throwing their power around, and some are quieter?”

“Sure, but that is just because some people are dicks, designation has fuck all to do with that.”

“True,” Eskel laughed a bit, “but at their core alphas are defenders, breeders, or service.” He shrugged a bit. “Defenders are the ones you send out to war, they’ll protect the pack, tear the throat out of anyone who disrespects the group. They tend to be aggressive in their base personalities, because well they are built to fight to the death to keep everyone safe. Breeders are alphas who well focus on making babies. They have extra ruts, are super territorial about space. And there is service - like Geralt. Their whole being, all their instincts are about the omega - not to protect or to breed, but to make them feel good, loved. They exist to serve every whim, every desire.”

“Bull fucking shit,” Jaskier said.

“Think about it,” Lambert said. “How he always puts you above him, how he bathes you, cares for you. Think of the heat, licking us clean, not fucking me because that was what I needed from him. A defender or a breeder would not be able to do that. A service alpha - his brain literally cannot allow him to defy an omega. His instincts all exist to make an omega feel…”

“Worshiped,” Geralt finished for Lambert. “I didn’t serve you well,” he added against Jaskier’s skin.

“Ohh,” Jaskier said softly, “Geralt?”

“Hmm?”

“You served me so well. I have never felt so good, even during Lambert’s heat. It didn’t feel as good as you made me feel. Sorry Lambert.”

“No, that was heat aid, whole different thing,” Lambert agreed. “These are all just sort of base instincts and these days mostly dismissed as bullshit, as you said, but witchers found the mutagens enhanced those characteristics. Breeders seldom made it through all the trials. Broken by the fact that they couldn’t actually breed.”

“A few had to be mercy killed,” Vesemir added. “It hurt, so much. But it was cruel to have them hurting like that. During the purge, the defenders fought so fucking hard, if I had had to say before hand who I thought would survive it would have been one of them.”

“That wasn’t,” Jaskier pulled away and Geralt let him. “Oh, look at what destiny gifted you.”

Geralt snorted, “Gifted?”

Jaskier cupped his cheek and Geralt leaned into it. “Men decided to fuck you up, ruin you. Destiny couldn’t stop that, but it could give you the gift of making sure who was left would be whole.” He was looking at all of them. “Lambert, if a defender or breeder had been the ones to survive, your wants wouldn’t have been met. The four of you, a perfect joined square. A unit.”

“We forged that, destiny didn’t give it to us,” Lambert growled.

“He is young and a bard, let him have this,” Vesemir said and Lambert huffed but clearly agreed. “Maybe it did, who are we to say?”

“Lambert in your slut lessons told you to say the word serve a lot to Geralt, correct?” Eskel asked.

“Yes, and can we all stop calling them slut lessons?” Jaskier begged, "Not really slut lessons if it is all about one man is it?"

“No, it is cute, cub, and besides you can be a slut for just one person,” Lambert replied. 

“But that sends a message to Geralt’s brain. That he must attend you, serve you,” Eskel explained. “He low key always wants to, but when you emphasize it - consider it your own sort of alpha voice. It has power over him that needs to be used carefully.”

Jaskier bit his lip, and Geralt rubbed his thumb over it to soothe the mark away. “You don’t have to use it carefully, you can use it however you want,” Geralt urged. “I want you to be happy.”

“Geralt, being forced to marry you? Every day has been happier than the last since then,” Jaskier said. “Just one more thing, naked?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lambert chuckled. “He gets restless.”

“I know, I hear him pacing at night.”

“Clothes itch,” Geralt mumbled. “Gets really bad near my rut, or just when I am wound up from training or something.”

“He likes being naked,” Vesemir said, “And it never particularly bothered us, but -”

“But me being new and not understanding so much, means he’s been staying dressed,” Jaskier finished off. “Silly alpha. Just think how much better today could have gone if you told me all of this?”

Geralt shook his head. “You didn’t know so much, and were not - I didn’t want to rush you.”

Jaskier nodded a bit. “You being nude will not bother me. I will be more careful with the word ‘serve’ -”

“Probably doesn’t want you to be too careful,” Lambert muttered and Vesemir just raised a brow, “Come on that pack is gonna be stupid heavy,” he whined but nodded when the brow went even higher. 

“You know, I think I can do my meditative time in the west tower,” Eskel said. “Starting tomorrow.”

“Yes, I am ready to go camping, what about you, Lambert?”

“Sure, just need to give Jaskier one more quick lesson before we head out, because we are clearly leaving to give them space to properly talk and fuck it all out.”

“Lambert,” Geralt growled a bit, “Manners!”

“Point, he is right, they are leaving so we can have privacy to fuck it out,” Jaskier said. He turned bright red at saying fuck it out, “I mean if you would like?”

Geralt adjusted Jaskier in his lap, which was a bit difficult since he was still technically in Eskel’s lap. “I would very much like,” he said calmly.

“Right, come on then, lesson time,” Lambert tugged at Jaskier’s arm and Geralt growled not wanting to let go. “I’ll stab you because trust me he needs this lesson, Geralt.”

Geralt saw the sincerity in Lambert’s eyes and let go, watched the two omegas hurry away. He leaned against Eskel. “Still gonna check to make sure you eat and drink a bit,” he warned the beta.

“I know,” Eskel kissed his head.

“Just a bit more?” Geralt asked softly and stayed cuddled against Eskel as Vesemir read to them both. 

He had been a good alpha, served well. And tomorrow he and Jaskier would be virtually alone. He purred as Eskel cuddled him and Vesemir read. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SOFT AND LOVING SEX TIME

Geralt was in the kitchen, making up a breakfast popular in Beauclair, as a treat for Jaskier. He dipped the stale bread in eggs and goat milk and lay it carefully in the skillet. He raided the spices that Vesemir hoarded carefully, adding just a bit of cinnamon to the top. He watched it carefully and then flipped it in the pan. Once it was done he went to slide it onto the plate, and Lambert’s fingers were in the way. “I will kill you.” He watched the treat land on Lambert’s fingers and the bastard wasn’t even bothered by the heat.

“My fingers have a bit of bone ash on them, probably don’t want me to put it back,” Lambert blew on the toast and took a bite. “Yum,” he wiggled his brows. “Thank you. See you in a few days. Fuck well!” He ran out of the kitchen and Geralt threw a wooden spoon at him, having the satisfaction of at least hitting the witcher in the head. Geralt prepared another piece of bread and when it was done put some apple slices and a drizzle of honey over top. There, that looked nice. He took it up to their rooms and knocked on Jaskier’s door.

“Would you care to break your fast, I made you a treat,” he called and heard a sleepy call to bring it on. He smiled as Jaskier sat up and rubbed at his eyes like a child. His hair was growing long and a bit of a mess. “After you eat, will you want to go down to the waters?” 

There was a yawn where he could hear jawbones lightly crack. “Sounds nice. We really alone?”

“We are,” Geralt handed him the plate. “A recipe from Beauclair.”

Jaskier sighed happily, “I love Beauclair, spent a month there a few years ago, with a friend’s family. It smells nice there.”

“It does, though they have a serious echidna problem in the region. Nests keep popping up. We’d love to do a proper underground search but the crown will not pay for that.” Geralt shook his head, “Costing them more money in the long run.” He was pleased at the happy noises that Jaskier made as he ate the treat. He preened a bit that he had well provided for his omega. He talked about his favourite things in Beauclair while Jaskier ate.

“Geralt, you know Beauclair has galleries and music, and culture, right?”

“I know, why?”

“Because you are telling me about your favourite blacksmith and where the best crypts for looting are.”

Geralt scratched his neck a bit, “They do crypt tours, so that is culture?”

“Silly alpha,” Jaskier teased and leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were sticky from the honey. “We’ll go to Beauclair one day, and I’ll show you how to properly enjoy it.”

“I did have to find a statue’s balls one time, that seems cultural.”

Jaskier laughed. “Oh, you are telling me that story.”

“In the water,” Geralt replied and stood. When Jaskier did as well, Geralt through the man over his shoulder and enjoyed the squawk that came out of him far too much. “No walking for you today. I’ll carry you everywhere.”

“I mean that sounds lovely but there are more romantic carries and over your shoulder like a sack of flower?”

“Free hand to defend you from threat, just in case,” Geralt replied. They wound their way outside and down into the baths. He gave Heinrich a pat and Heinrich expelled some flowers at him, like darts. He just gave the plant another pat and tossed the flowers in the pools to find the good one. Geralt took them to the far left and set Jaskier down. They stripped out of their clothes and Jaskier slid into the water. Geralt collected the soap and oil that Jaskier preferred and put them on the ledge before he joined Jaskier in the water. 

They swam circles around each other, eyes never leaving each other’s face. “Lambert has suggested in my lessons that I’ve had really bad sex.” Jaskier bit his lip. “I told him everything I’ve done, and he says it is a lot better than what I was having.”

“It might be,” Geralt moved closer and Jaskier’s arms were around his shoulders. Geralt put a hand on the small of Jaskier’s back. “I will try to make it wonderful for you.”

“And you’ll knot me.”

“I will.” Geralt nuzzled his neck, licked where his mark would go. “I don’t have to though.”

“I want you to,” Jaskier’s grip around him tightened. “I want you.” 

Geralt scented all along his neck and jaw, kissed him. “I should wash your hair.” But he found it difficult to let go of Jaskier. “You like that.” He took another kiss and then swam to collect the items. He tended to Jaskier, like he wanted, like he always wanted to, and fuck it felt good. It was so good tending to his omega that he started to purr a bit. He stroked finger nails over Jaskier’s scalp and neck, rubbed his shoulders. He slid his hands down Jaskier’s chest flicked at his nipples before sliding them down more. Geralt cupped Jaskier’s cock and kissed his neck. “Shall we return to our room?”

He could hear vines slap against the floor and he glared a little at Heinrich. “I am not going to fuck him where you can watch.” A vine slithered over the water and stroked Jaskier’s back, “Or participate!” He growled and gave the vine a bit of a pinch and it started to pull away. Jaskier brought it to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss, and all the bio luminescent flowers flared almost blindingly bright.

“Thank you, Heinrich, but our first time I do want the privacy and comfort of our bed. Another time though.”

“It is a plant, it does not need to watch us fuck,” Geralt protested.

“It has to be bored down here sometimes, and I am a performer! Or I would like to be. Oh, I should be singing down here. Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you Heinrich?” Jaskier hummed a few bars, and flowers and leaves rained from the ceiling in happiness. “Promise, I’ll do more,” Jaskier declared. Geralt shook his head in fondness at the love Jaskier had for the evil plant. They dried off and Geralt didn’t bother getting dressed again. Jaskier held up his arms, clearly angling for a more gentle carry and Geralt just put a shoulder into his stomach again and they were off.

When they were back inside the keep, Geralt paused. “Did you just swat my ass?”

“It was right there! Don’t want a tap, don’t carry me like this.” There was another swat and like the first it didn’t hurt at all, and was honestly rather adorable. But he took the hint and switched Jaskier to a more tender carry. “See, isn’t this better?”

“If I had to defend you, I’d have to drop you.”

“What are you defending me from?” Jaskier deliberately craned his neck around. “Oh no, Lambert left a broom over there. Maybe it will come to life and attack us.”

“I have seen that happen,” Geralt continued on and up to their room. “Sorcerer’s apprentice, tried to get out of chores, it went poorly.”

“Wait, really?”

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted. Jaskier opened their door and Geralt put the omega gently on his bed. He lit the fire and turned. “The bed or the chair?”

“We can make love in our chair?”

Geralt smiled at the look of surprise in Jaskier’s face, even as he felt his heart give an extra thump at it being called their chair. “We can,” he assured Jaskier.

“I’ll be back in a moment?” Jaskier hurried from the room and Geralt took the chance to move the chair a bit closer to the fire. He sat in the chair and waited. Jaskier came back and sort of stood at the door. Geralt held out a hand and Jaskier made his way over. Geralt removed the shirt and sleep trousers and gently tugged Jaskier onto his lap, so that the omega was a bit higher than him. “You really do like us like this.”

Geralt nodded and kissed Jaskier’s neck. “Puts you perfect for me to scent you.” He nuzzled at Jaskier’s throat, both sides of his neck. Scenting, licking, kissing. He was purring as he did it. He pressed a hand to the small of Jaskier’s back, the place where his hand belonged. The purrs grew louder. Jaskier sank down a bit, rested his ass on Geralt’s thighs so their eyes were of a height. “You called it making love.”

“What stories say.” He turned red a bit. “What Lambert said in my slut lessons,” the last part was muttered quietly.

Geralt was going to mock Lambert relentlessly for that when he saw the man again, but for now he just cupped Jaskier’s cheek and gave him a kiss. “I am…” for a moment he couldn’t think of what to say. “Yours,” was what came out. “Jaskier, my omega, my body it is yours to command.” He stroked the small of Jaskier’s back. “What would you ask of me?” It was perhaps stupid and old fashioned to phrase it like that, but he knew Jaskier would also love that.

“Make it as good as Lambert said it would be?” Jaskier whispered and then buried his face against Geralt’s throat, clearly a bit embarrassed. But then he licked and snuffled and Geralt’s neck, scenting his alpha. “Make me feel amazing, my alpha.”

Geralt didn’t reply to that, but rather kissed Jaskier’s head and slowly began to move his hand up and down Jaskier’s back, and on one pass down his hand grazed down Jaskier’s ass, which caused the omega to squirm a bit in his lap. They began to kiss, gently at first but with growing intensity and Jaskier pushed up so that he was that bit higher again, tilted his neck in invitation. Geralt licked at his throat and scented him some more, as his fingers moved between Jaskier’s legs and pressed against his hole. There was a bit of slick and Geralt slowly circled a finger against the skin and most slick began to gather. He brought his hand away and smirked a bit at the whine Jaskier gave.

He brought the finger to his mouth and licked it. Jaskier was almost apple red when he watched that, and Geralt teased a bit, “another time, going to bury my face there, lick you open.” Jaskier’s eyes went huge.

“Lambert said that was a thing, but that is not a thing. Is it?”

“It is a thing,” Geralt agreed. “Lick you open, press my tongue into you. I bet you would be sensitive enough to come just from that,” Geralt whispered. Jaskier’s pupil’s were large and his breath was growing heavier. Geralt eased Jaskier’s back on his lap just a bit, stared down at his omega’s cock that was already half hard. “No worrying today about coming too quickly or any such nonsense. Please? I want to be covered in you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier shivered. “Could you -”

“Could I what?”

“Tell me that in alpha voice?” Jaskier was still red but had a wicked smile on his face. “Please?”

Geralt wrapped his hand around Jaskier’s cock and pulled. He lowered his voice, put his power into it, “You are to come as much and as often as you want, my omega. Don’t worry about anything, just enjoy everything I do for you.”

Jaskier swayed a bit and his eyes went hazy, “That sounds really fucking brilliant.” There was a giggle. “Lambert said, only thing he misses, not the alpha cock but the extra floaty you get when aroused and alpha voice hits you. He is right, it feels so happy!” There was another giggle. “More, Geralt.”

“More touch, or more voice?” Geralt had to ask.

“Both!”

“Jaskier, would you like to hear all the thoughts I have been having about you?” Geralt moved his hand up and down Jaskier’s cock, and kept using his alpha voice. “Do you know how I picture you?”

“Tell me!” Jaskier demanded. “My alpha, tell me everything.”

Geralt used his alpha voice to tell Jaskier about how he wanted to lay Jaskier out on his bed, spend hours touching and kissing the man, how he wanted to fuck the omega into such a state of bliss that he fell asleep knotted to Geralt, completely tuckered out. It didn’t take long and Jaskier was spilling onto his hand and lap. Geralt brought it to his mouth, and licked his hand clean, which made Jaskier moan and collapse against him. Geralt’s thighs were wet from Jaskier’s slick, the arousal and alpha voice making him wet and relaxed. It was easy to press one finger into Jaskier and he moved it back and forth. “More?” Jaskier mouthed against his skin and began to suck on Geralt’s neck. “Is it fine if I leave marks on you?”

With his witcher healing, they wouldn’t last long, but Geralt grew fully hard at the thought of his omega claiming him like that. “Please,” Geralt begged, “Please as much as you want.”

“Ooh, my service alpha likes that?” Jaskier bounced a bit in his lap. “I like it too.” He began to suck hard on Geralt’s neck, and Geralt carefully press a second finger into Jaskier, and slick was sliding down his hand. He could feel Jaskier growing hard again. “You know, I studied history a bit. Not my favourite subject, didn’t pay attention a lot. Eep, Geralt that feels so good. I like your fingers inside me. We can do that more?”

“As much as you want,” Geralt promised. “Would you like sometime to wake up to my fingers inside you?”

“Fuck, yes,” Jaskier groaned. “Please, yes. That sounds wonderful. What was I saying before?”

“History,” Geralt replied and began to stretch Jaskier open. Jaskier was squirming again and pressing against Geralt’s cock, like how whores sometimes did and it was making his head feel swimmy. 

“Yes! History. Warlords of old, along with omega jewelry would put them in a collar, sometimes even a chain. Show they were owned. Attach it to the bed even. Although that might have been from a novel and not history. But the collar thing is real.”

“I know, Eskel read history books to me when we were in training. A very old practice, even outdated by Vesemir’s ages.”

“Yes, yes, but still collar to show they were owned. Geralt, more,” Jaskier pleaded. 

“More fingers, or would you like my cock, dear omega?”

“Cock?” Jaskier was almost breathless. He looked down between them. “It’s uhh, bigger than what I’ve had before.”

“We’ll go slow. Brace your hands on my shoulders,” Geralt ordered in his alpha voice and in an instant Jaskier’s long fingers were squeezing his shoulders. Geralt adjusted how they were sitting a bit, and lined his cock up. He pressed against the slick hole. “Now slowly sink down at your own pace.” He put his hands on Jaskier’s hips to help steady and guide him.

It was torture, that warmth slowly enveloping his cock and he needed a bit of a distraction so that he just did rock hard into the omega. He wanted this to be perfect. “Are you suggesting you want a collar, Jaskier?”

“Ew no, I’m suggesting that we could put one on you, so everyone would know you were a claimed alpha, belonging solely to me, your omega,” Jaskier said. “What do you think of that idea? Me claiming you like that, since I can’t really bite you? Everyone in the world, knowing you were mine?”

Geralt had been so determined to be perfect for Jaskier, but every bit of control he had snapped at that thought. That Jaskier would want to so publicly claim Geralt like that. The ownership, the service of confidence that would give to his omega overwhelmed him, and he pushed them out of the chair, and fell on top of Jaskier on the fur rugs in front of the fire. He pulled out, and then pushed into Jaskier not stopping until he was pressed all the way in. He nipped at Jaskier’s neck.

“Omega, my omega, make you feel good, feel everything,” he growled, “be worthy of you.” He began to rock his hips and couldn’t stop scenting the man. He was drooling, and he couldn’t stop it. He felt his knot start to grow and pressed it into Jaskier. He was licking at Jaskier’s jaw, temple, neck, anything he could comfortably reach. “Jaskier,” he groaned as he locked into place. His orgasm rolled through him, and the knot pressing inside Jaskier triggered the omega’s orgasm as well. 

Geralt didn’t bite him, he wanted to make that claim, but it wasn’t the time, so he sucked a bruise in the spot instead as his cock pulsed inside of Jaskier, the tight walls pressed against his knot milking him hard. “Fuck, Jaskier, fuck.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaskier slurred. “Lambert.”

Geralt froze because his omega wasn’t calling him the wrong name, he wasn’t.

“Lambert was right, I was having so much bad sex before.”

Geralt began to laugh. “You fucked eight times, that is not so much sex, little fox.” He propped himself up and looked at Jaskier. The man was drenched in his spit. “I apologize.” He lifted an edge of rug and dried him off. He couldn’t help it and kissed the tip of Jaskier’s nose. “Next time, I’ll do a better job of making love to you.”

Jaskier snorted. “Geralt, I saw stars. Actual, honest to Freya, fucking stars. I don’t know if there is better.”

Geralt rubbed his nose along Jaskier’s jaw. “I’ll show you the entirety of the heavens,” he swore.

“You did good, Geralt.”

That had a purr rumbling in his chest. He rolled onto his side and gathered Jaskier close. “How does being knotted feel?”

Jaskier squirmed a bit and Geralt held him still. “I think I like it. Bit odd, and I can now completely understand Lambert’s last lesson.”

Now that was a curious thing. “What was it, that he dragged you off to tell you?”

Jaskier was flushing again, Geralt adored that colour on him. “It was a bit more…practical in nature. About certain bodily functions and such.”

It didn’t take Geralt very long to clue in. “Pee before hand so there isn’t an unfortunate accident while stuck on a knot?”

Jaskier pressed his face against Geralt’s throat. “That would be correct.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Geralt reassure, “it is just how nature works sometimes.”

“He said you would say that, but he also figured that I would mind a lot.”

That Geralt could understand. He settled his hand into the small of Jaskier’s back, and kissed his head. “What else has he taught you that is less practical than that?”

“I’ll show you later.” Jaskier yawned and tried to snuggle closer, not that he could really, and Geralt tightened his arms around the omega. “Silly isn’t it, the picture of you in a collar belonging to me?”

“No,” Geralt licked his lips. “I would wear it happily.”

“Oh.” Jaskier pressed a kiss to his throat. “Oh.”

“Is that a good oh?”

There was just a nod to that and they were quiet until Geralt’s knot deflated and they separated. He carried Jaskier to the bed, and said he would get them food. He was barely to the door when Jaskier jumped onto his back. Geralt’s arms went under his knees to keep him up and he started to walk to the kitchens.

“I would happily bring you food, Jaskier.”

“I know, but not ready to let go, yet. Hey could we fuck on the kitchen table?”

Geralt snorted, “No, unless you want a six hour lecture from Vesemir. But library table is an option.”

“Even better, because then I can read to you while stuck on your knot. Fuck that is perfect. Yes, feed me, and then fuck me in the library and then I’ll read to you.”

“My omega, I am happy to serve your needs,” Geralt swore, and spent the rest of the day making Jaskier feel cherished and loved, and in the quiet, Geralt sometimes pressed a finger to his neck and dreamed of wearing Jaskier’s claim.


	20. Chapter 20

Geralt was awake the instant that Jaskier’s hand moved on his stomach but he kept his breathing even, didn’t move. But it was hard not to smile - it seemed his omega was insatiable. That hand was moving lower, brushing against the hairs between his legs and then just lay over top his cock. 

“Geralt?” it was the smallest whisper and he decided not to respond, just to see what would happen. He shifted a little but it was easy for it to be mistaken as just sleep movement. “Geralt?” he still didn’t respond and that hand wrapped around his cock. The touch was hesitant, too loose to arouse him thoroughly but it still felt nice. The grip tightened and that felt even better. Jaskier’s hand moved slowly up and down, and Geralt almost whimpered when he let go, but Jaskier was moving down his body, and when hands pressed his thighs apart, Geralt moved them.

Jaskier’s breath was so warm against his skin. He had done this yesterday but was clearly nervous and Geralt had pulled him up and said he never needed that. But it seemed thinking Geralt was asleep was making Jaskier brave. Geralt couldn’t stop his hips from arching a bit as Jaskier licked at the slit of his cock. “Oh,” Jaskier whispered and then his mouth closed around the tip and Geralt was ready to die. Jaskier only went down about half way before moving back up, but it being his omega doing this, was better than anything he had felt before.

Jaskier was clearly trying to coordinate his hands and mouth and it was sloppy and he actually squeezed too hard against the loose skin of Geralt’s knot but when he pulled his hand away, Geralt whined. “Jaskier, fuck little fox, more,” Geralt begged.

“You’re awake, I wanted to make you feel good.”

“You are,” Geralt swore. He tossed the blanket over his head so they were both under it. “You are. Jaskier that feels incredible, but I should take care of you. Let me -”

Jaskier made a grumpy face that made Geralt’s heart melt. “No, I want to make you feel good, dammit, Geralt. Oh, you know what? You want to be a good service alpha?” Geralt nodded fiercely at those words, his sleepy brain latching onto them. “You want to be the best service alpha for me?” Fuck yes, he did. “You serve me right now by laying still and letting me play with your body. Can you do that, my alpha, just let me enjoy you?”

“I can,” Geralt agreed. It was dim under the blankets though. “Can I cast this off, so I can see you?”

“Yes,” Jaskier said after a moment and he was flushed, desire in his eyes, and he smelled so aroused. “Do you mind?”

“Mind what?”

“How much I want you?”

Geralt stroked a hand down Jaskier’s hair. “No, I am yours to satisfy your needs. Happily, eagerly.” They had barely left the bed the last few days, Jaskier discovering all that he had missed in those eight fucks before Geralt. He was so hungry. For Geralt, for his alpha. It made him purr a bit more. “You can have whatever you need from me. I want you so much.” He was as hungry as his omega. He stretched out on the bed and put his hands behind his head. “Do whatever you want?”

“Whatever?” There was a gleam in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Geralt swore.

Jaskier’s head bent and he began to suck Geralt’s cock again. It felt so good. He had to close his eyes, because it was too overwhelming watching it. Made him want to pick up Jaskier and fuck into him. They had learned that Jaskier really liked it when Geralt tossed him around a bit. But this was Jaskier’s moment. When he nudged, Geralt opened his legs as much as he could. He lay there and enjoyed all the sensations that Jaskier was delivering. He was purring like mad and then the noise abruptly stopped when a slick finger pressed against his hole. He sat up a bit, eyes wide. “No?” Jaskier looked terrified.

“I haven’t in a very long time,” Geralt replied. He took a slow and deep breath, lay back down. He covered his eyes with an arm and moved his legs so one was bent up, the other thrown wide. “Let’s see.” He kept his breath steady as Jaskier tried to touch him and suck his cock at the same time, but it was too much for the man to handle. Geralt wrapped a hand around his cock. “Just focus on your fingers,” he said. Touching himself would distract him from the intrusion. He moved his hand up and down and more slick was pressed against the tight pucker. 

He realized it was Jaskier’s slick. Jaskier was going to fuck into Geralt using his slick. Geralt moaned, his knot swelled a bit just at the thought. “Please,” he whispered and Jaskier’s finger pushed in a bit. “Lambert said you used to do this?”

“I did. Not a lot, had to have a strong connection to the omega.” Geralt shifted a bit and the finger sank in more. “Had to trust them.” Jaskier went still. “What?”

“You, that means you trust me,” Jaskier’s eyes were shining, brilliant. “You trust me like you did your brethren?”

“You are my husband, my mate,” Geralt shrugged a bit. “You read to me. I trust you.” He was surprised by the way Jaskier surged up but he held the man and the kiss he received was hard, messy. He put his hand to the small of Jaskier’s back, pressed them close. “I trust you,” he repeated.

Jaskier pulled away and settled back between his legs. He watched Jaskier press fingers into himself and draw the slick out. It took a while, muscles unused to this feeling, but eventually Jaskier had three fingers in him and was rubbing at that spot. It was making his knot fill. “Can I fuck you?” Jaskier asked breathless, thoroughly aroused from fingering Geralt.

Geralt wanted to give his omega everything. “Not this time, can’t handle more than what you are doing right now.” It was a lot to feel and he wouldn’t enjoy more.

“Thank you for being honest, sweet alpha,” Jaskier said. He pulled his fingers out and climbed on Geralt’s lap. They lined up and Jaskier sank down all the way, with a groan and wince until the knot was in him. Jaskier rolled his hips slowly and moved up and down but after how much he had worked Geralt, Geralt was done far quicker than he would have liked. He growled and arched up, pushing as far as he could into Jaskier. He was coming, locked into his mate. He watched Jaskier make a bit of a show stroking himself off onto Geralt’s chest. Geralt ran his fingers through it and licked them clean.

They were staring at each other, a million words settling into the silence between them.

Then the silence shattered as his door was flung open. Geralt snarled and reached for a dagger. 

“Damn it smells like sex in here!” Lambert was grinning. “I smell like the dead dear I carried home.” 

“Then you should go visit Heinrich and have a bath.”

“Yeah sure, in a minute. I missed Jaskier.” 

“You missed me?” Jaskier was beaming and tried to go to Lambert and Geralt roared as it tugged on his knot painfully. “Oh. Sorry. Gimmie!” Jaskier held out his arms and Lambert strode forward.

“You are not getting those blood covered leathers on my furs!” Geralt put all the alpha he could in his voice, and Jaskier collapsed against him. But still was reaching an arm out to Lambert.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lambert rolled his eyes, shook a bit to get the alpha voice out of his head. And then shook all his clothes off. “There, no blood on your precious sheets.” And then there was a naked Lambert on his bed draped against them so that he could hug Jaskier while Jaskier was still knotted to Geralt. “Missed you, cub.” He was scenting the pack side of Jaskier’s neck. “You smell all happy and loved up.”

“You were right, sex is wonderful. We’ve fucked a lot!” Jaskier giggled, high from the alpha voice and having his fellow omega back. “His dick is huge!”

“Thank you?” Geralt sighed and threw an arm around Lambert as well because it was clear he wasn’t leaving.

“It’s fairly average for alpha,” Lambert teased, “Nothing that special.”

Jaskier squawked a bit, “It is a great dick, Lambert. It made me feel so good. He is such a good alpha.”

Geralt started purring at that.

“He’s alright, I suppose. So what did you do beside fuck?” 

Geralt purred while they talked on top of him and once his knot deflated he slid out of Jaskier. “Right, how about you two go to the baths, continue your conversation not on top of me, while I check on Eskel?” If they were home, Eskel would be just about done with his meditation time. They weren’t moving though. “Water? Gossip?”

Lambert yawned, “comfy.”

“Smelly,” Geralt replied. He sighed when Jaskier rolled off him and buried himself in Lambert’s arms. “Fine. You two have a snuggle and nap, and then a bath.” He stood up and went to the dresser where he poured out some water, cleaned off a bit.

“He has a really round butt,” Jaskier whispered.

“I know? It is sorta weird?” Lambert replied. “You’d think all the horse riding he did would make it flat in weird spots.”

“I can hear you!”

“We know,” they replied. Geralt dressed and left quickly when he heard Lambert start to ask all about their sex. He went to the tower where Eskel had been staying and found the man coming down the stairs. “You heard their arrival?”

Eskel grunted and swayed a bit. Geralt shook his head and helped the man down the stairs and they went to the kitchen. Geralt fixed up some food for the man, light to be easy on his stomach. “It was a good session,” Eskel said. “I realized a few things.”

“Oh?” Geralt sat, ready to listen as he always did after Eskel’s meditation. They could hear Vesemir working in the other room, preparing whatever he and Lambert brought back. 

“We’ll walk the path differently come the spring,” Eskel replied. “By then you will have claimed him, and I think the claim will change some things. He’ll formally be pack omega. He will not like us being far apart.”

Geralt hadn’t really thought of that. “But that would make me pack alpha, and -”

“Geralt, you have been for a long time, even if we’ve never spoken it.” Eskel was smiling at him. “None of us mind, and I think if we let ourselves we’d love it.”

“Vesemir -”

“He is our home, you are our way. Jaskier will be our way. And he will get pissy if he doesn’t see Lambert for months on end.”

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned because that was accurate. “So what?”

“We look at the map, actually create a plan.” Eskel listened and it seemed that Vesemir was well into his work. He went to the cupboard and came back with a cup of flour. He spilled it onto the table formed a rough map of the continent. “We leave, spread out like this, return together here. Repeat here and here, and then all head home together come the winter. Still allows us to cover ground, but Jaskier will have the comfort of seeing us a few times.”

“There is that festival in high summer in Beauclair, the tournament. He’d probably like that,” Geralt looked at the flower map. “Wouldn’t he?”

“He would, a great deal.”

“Regis has a vineyard. He’d probably welcome us all.”

“Why is a vampire welcoming us, and why is my flour making a mess on my table?” Vesemir’s voice rose as he came through the door. 

Eskel panicked and cast axii at Vesemir, “There is no flour on the table.” Eskel and Geralt both winced when Vesemir glared at them - a mess in his kitchen trumped axii any day of the week. “Geralt and Jaskier fucked in here, I can smell!” Eskel nodded at Geralt and bolted from the room.

“What the fuck, Eskel?” Geralt threw a knife at the beta, furious at being sold out like that. Eskel acting almost like Lambert there. He smiled at Vesemir. “I solemnly swear we did not have sex in here.”

“Hand jobs?” Vesemir was glaring.

“How about I scrub down the whole room?” Geralt stood and started cleaning up the flour map. 

“How about you do that, pack alpha?” Vesemir smiled at him, and it was vicious. “And then I think the logs.”

“That is not fair!” Geralt hated running on the logs, he had the worst balance of them all and always wiped out on those rolling beasts. He put on his alpha voice. “As pack alpha, which it seems I am, I -”

“Twice, you’ll be doing them twice,” Vesemir shook his head.

“Yes, sir,” Geralt deflated a bit. “Was it a good trip?”

“It was, Lambert was the happiest he’s been in a long time.” Vesemir started cleaning with him. “And I found what I was looking for.” He pulled a vial out of his pocket. “It is a particular secretion that harpies let out to mark trees to draw a mate to them.”

“What potion uses that?” Geralt couldn’t think of one.

“Mix it with a bit of tallow and it can act as a bonding agent,” Vesemir explained. “It is has held armor together for me even after a hit by a forktail. It should affix the neck to the body of the lute with ease.”

Geralt stopped his cleaning and hugged Vesemir. “My thanks.” He nuzzled Vesemir’s neck. 

“Of course, pup,” Vesemir pat his pack. “And you only have to do the logs once.”

They finished the clean up and went to the hall where they could hear whooping and found Lambert and Jaskier chasing each other around, pups playing about. It was wonderful to watch. 

“Geralt has to do the logs, if anyone wants a good laugh.”

“Yes, he sucks at those it is hilarious. Hop on cub!” Lambert turned and Jaskier was on his back.

“Geralt is great at everything!” Jaskier protested. “My mate is incredible.”

Geralt preened at being called mate by Jaskier, sure the strength of that belief would see him through his worst part of training. 

He ended up in the frigid pool beneath the logs three times before he completed the course. Lambert laughed at him the whole time, and to add insult to injury went across them like it was nothing. “I’m going for a bath in hot water.” 

Jaskier jogged next to him. “I’ll help you with that, Geralt. Maybe we can give Heinrich that show he wants.”

“Hey, I’ll come along, maybe give you a slut lesson while you are fucking!” Lambert said just to be a dick.

“No, because you are doing the wall,” Vesemir said, “for showing up Geralt like that. Smugness does not suit a witcher.”

“Everything suits me, I’m gorgeous,” Lambert shot back but went towards the wall.

Geralt almost wanted to stay and watch, but the Jaskier smiled at him, and knew they’d indeed give Heinrich a show.


End file.
